


Attachments and Amendments

by Sibir



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, F/M, Post-Star Wars: The Clone Wars, Pre-Star Wars: The Clone Wars, References to Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008), Slow burn Siriwan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-24 12:56:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 78,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21338611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sibir/pseuds/Sibir
Summary: [Siriwan AU. Disabled!Siri in later chapters] Siri never took another Padawan after Ferus left. Her Force-sensitive son, born from her undercover mission as Zora, is raised in the Temple on the condition that she doesn't contact or connect with him. On top of that, she stifled her feelings for Obi-Wan for 20 years. Then the Clone Wars change the Order's stance on attachment.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Siri Tachi, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Siri Tachi, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 52
Kudos: 40





	1. The First Son

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do people still read and enjoy Siriwan? I hope so! Siriwan had been my first Star Wars ship since the early 2000s and I enjoyed reading fics of them. Obi-Wan is my absolute favorite Star Wars character, and Siri complements him very well. I wanted to contribute somehow to this great pairing for a while, and it wasn't until recently that I found the time, effort, and ideas needed to put it on paper.
> 
> Back in 2004, Jedikma wrote a wonderful twoshot called "The Will of The Force," which I liked so much that I wanted to run with Jedikma's "Siri having a child while undercover" idea and explore what would have happened if Siri had a Force-sensitive child instead.
> 
> Sheehin rhymes with Ian (the middle H is silent), and pronounced the same way as the Irish last name Sheehan.

Siri never fully understood the value of a life until she had to carry and nurture one with her own body. Despite the drugs and medical droids that eased the labor, she didn't know that bringing someone into the world could be so painful, so messy, yet so beautiful. The tough, hardened two year-old shell Siri had called Zora crumbled away as soon as she saw the face of her newborn son and held his fragile weight in her arms. She named the baby Sheehin.

The father, a fellow undercover agent going by the name Shodo, showed no signs of affection when he visited—or rather, inspected the baby after Siri had delivered.

"Looks healthy enough," he remarked.

Shodo was even more tall and imposing as Siri rested in bed holding Sheehin. She had hoped that the sight of the baby, the realization of being a father, would let a sliver of humanity crack through Shodo's tight, emotionless face, but he stood at the bedside with hands behind his back, with no intent to rest a hand on Siri or his son. Shodo was cold and practical as Zora was fiery and tempestuous. He had concocted the scheme that he and Zora would pose as lovers, giving them more opportunities to conspire and undermine Krayn's operations as they shared quarters. Siri had followed along with the plan, mostly because it relieved her to know that she didn't get tangled with this extremely dangerous mission all by herself. Shodo had responded to her loneliness, her need for human comfort and contact, and their intimate nights together made a baby, so perhaps he wasn't so cold and lifeless after all. Or perhaps he saw further opportunity to keep the slavers away from her by staking his territory. The pregnancy had given Zora several months free of harassment, all right. The slavers were a superstitious bunch and wouldn't touch a pregnant female. Perhaps Shodo simply acted on that knowledge. Whatever it took to get the mission done.

Shodo unfolded arms from his back to reach out with them, but only to say, "I'll take the baby, now. He'll be fostered at my homeworld."

"Absolutely not." Siri's reply cracked like a whip. Her outburst stirred Sheehin from his sleep and made him fuss.

A muscle in Shodo's jaw twitched, but otherwise his face was devoid of expression, his brow smooth and unreadable. "Don't be difficult, Zora. He has no place here anymore. It's too dangerous for him."

Siri stood her ground while gently rocking Sheehin to quiet him down. "I can keep him safe as long as he's with me."

She couldn't give up the baby to Shodo. Not when she sensed the Force coursing through Sheehin like rippling waves. As soon as he was born, she could sense that he was Force-sensitive. But just as Shodo never revealed his homeworld to her, she never gave away her Jedi origins and connection to him. Neither could afford to blow their cover. She couldn't reveal the real reason for being so adamant on keeping Sheehin.

"I can't tell you why you can't take him away, but I know that he's better off with me."

Her stubbornness won, and Shodo turned up his hands in resignation.

"All right, he's yours," he said, then he narrowed his eyes. "Just don't let him jeopardize the mission."

It almost insulted her that he would say that. As a matter of fact, having Sheehin under her care made Siri even tougher and fiercer among Krayn's motley crew. If anyone dared to lay a claw, finger, or whatever appendage on the baby, even in jest, Siri threatened to rip it off and more. This amused Krayn. He liked having such a vicious spitfire on board, even if she was a new mother. _Because_ she was a new mother. As they had during her pregnancy, the slavers gave her a wide berth so she could look after her son in peace. Such shows of strong maternal instinct alarmed Siri, and sometimes she spent private moments by meditating over this.

'I'm already so attached to the baby, and attachment is forbidden among the Jedi. How am I going to correct this when I return to the Order? Should I have given him up to Shodo, after all?'

Despite doubts that flitted over her like shadows, Siri always came back to her conviction that she had been right to keep Sheehin. After being undercover so long, her mind was muddled, and she wasn't sure if the Force or maternal instinct was guiding her and urging her to keep caring for Sheehin. She kept a close eye on the baby for the next two months, even as Obi-Wan's young Padawan Anakin blew her cover and landed them in a prison cell. She'd been very upset that Anakin's foolishness not only exposed years of careful planning, but put herself and Sheehin in danger. In the small confines of that cell, she assaulted him with a tirade that made his ears ring until she could calm down and cooperate with him to hatch an escape plan.

As for Shodo, he bailed and took off with intel he needed without giving Siri a second thought. He had to save his own skin. He didn't hesitate to leave Krayn with punishing one instead of two undercover agents. Siri never saw or heard from Shodo again. Shodo wasn't even his real name, most likely. Whoever he was, wherever he went, wasn't Siri's concern anymore. His detached, exploitative approach with her dampened any notion of attachment to him. As for Sheehin, that was another story.

Once Krayn was killed and his slavery operation was busted, Siri brought Sheehin to the Jedi Temple, and along with her mission report, presented him to the Council. She had to step out of the chamber while the Council discussed Sheehin's fate. He was only an infant, and Force-sensitive at that. Siri knew, and hoped, that the Council wouldn't pass up that kind of chance to bring up another in their ranks.

Mace Windu delivered the Council's consensus to Siri. "After much deliberation, the Council has agreed to let your son stay in the Temple." He trained his stern, steely gaze on her as he steepled his long fingers and went on, "However, the boy is allowed to stay on one condition: you must not establish any contact or connection with him as he'll be raised to follow the Jedi way. Do you agree to these terms?"

Siri didn't have a choice. It took effort not to wilt under the stares all around her. Adi Gallia, her former Master, might have appeared the most sympathetic out of the corner of her eye. Siri swallowed hard, hoping that the Council didn't hear it echo in the chamber, and bowed in compliance. Everyone would be informed of Siri's return among the Jedi, but no one besides the Council would know about Sheehin. Anakin, who accompanied Siri for the mission report, was the exception. He had to swear to secrecy. Siri handed the baby over to the Temple caregivers, and tried very hard not to look over her shoulder and run back to Sheehin as he wailed in the arms of a stranger.

Only once in the privacy of her quarters, she curled up tightly under the bedsheets and cried herself to sleep. Her mission may have been a resounding success, but going undercover for as much and as long as she did wasn't good for a Jedi. She had gone too deep. She was drowning. She didn't know if she could ever come back up for light and air.

* * *

Anakin and Siri, thrown in prison to await execution, then breaking out to stage a slave revolution to defeat a crimelord…Obi-Wan certainly hadn't imagined introducing his apprentice to his best friend that way at all. Yet that was how Anakin and Siri had met.

Siri lost another night of sleep, Obi-Wan noticed once again. She hadn't been looking very well since she had returned. She restored her hair to its natural blonde sheen, ditched the pirate gear to don the Jedi tunic once more, and scrubbed away the war-like face paint, but bruises under her eyes gave her a wan, haunted look, and she shied away from his presence and attempts to ask after her wellbeing. That saddened and puzzled Obi-Wan. She always kept others at a distance, but not him. Eventually he took the hint to leave her alone, mostly from what his apprentice said.

"Zora—er, Master Tachi and I don't get along," Anakin said with apparent discomfort. Then with confusion, he said, "But you told me so many good things about her."

"I know." Obi-Wan frowned. "How come you two started off on the wrong foot?"

Anakin looked even more uncomfortable as he shifted his weight. "Uh, I blew her cover. She wasn't happy about that."

Obi-Wan scrutinized his Padawan. He didn't know Anakin long enough to decode his habits and body language. Still, he didn't buy Anakin's answer, and sensed that the boy was hiding something from him, some other bigger reason, but he chose not to pry.

Obi-Wan sighed, disappointed with how things had turned out with Anakin and Siri. "Well, that's that. Come, my young Padawan, I'll introduce you to my other friends."

Sometimes, Obi-Wan still reeled from the shock and surreal emptiness that came with losing his Master. That Siri hadn't turned her back to the Jedi, after all, and had returned to the Temple soon after the Battle of Naboo, salved the gaping wound in his heart. Somehow he wasn't fully convinced that she had a fallout with Master Gallia and had jumped ship from the Jedi Order to side with a despicable slaver. He had known Siri long enough to know that she would never truly do that. It was now common knowledge throughout the Temple that Siri's change of allegiance was part of the elaborate plan to infiltrate and dismantle Krayn's slaving operation.

At first Obi-Wan thought it best to give Siri space and time to settle back into being among the Jedi, but two years undercover had taken a heavy toll on her, and as her closest friend, he didn't feel right with leaving her alone to suffer quietly. It was clear to him that she carried a lot of weight on her shoulders, and that she needed help with relieving it.

He knew where she would be. She'd been spending more and more time in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, attempting to quiet her mind from a thousand things that must be swirling and raging inside. After getting Anakin acquainted with Garen, Bant, and Quinlan, and letting him spar with other apprentices, Obi-Wan headed off to find Siri. He found her by a water fountain meditating. Or trying to.

The burbling water should have masked the whisper of his feet on the grass, but Siri cracked open a narrow blue eye aimed at him. "You broke my focus."

She had been sounding irritable lately. It was different from the usual dry snarkiness that accompanied that tone. No humor glinted in her eyes now. She also sounded weary, with nerves fraying at the ends. This time Obi-Wan didn't let that deter him, and he settled down next to her.

"Your position is a little off," he said gently, and he arranged his legs to demonstrate.

"I'm out of practice." She corrected herself, but didn't close her eyes to resume meditating. "What are you doing here, Obi-Wan?"

"Just checking up on you."

"I'm fine," she replied shortly.

"You know, you've never been a good liar. You always speak your mind."

"Well, I'm speaking my mind when I'm telling you to go away," she retorted.

Obi-Wan stayed rooted to his spot on the grass, attempting to match her stubbornness in his own quiet way. "I'm not going away until you tell me what's wrong. Come on, Siri. You can tell me anything." He reached out to rest a hand on her shoulder, and felt knots of tension she must have balled up for days. At his touch, she trembled and her face crumpled.

"I _can't_, Obi-Wan," she whispered. "I can't tell you."

He didn't recall Siri needing medical attention and recovery at the Jedi Temple infirmary, yet pain rolled off of her in palpable waves as she struggled and failed to contain unseen wounds that seemed to bleed under his hand.

Through the Force, he silently beckoned her to trust him as she once did. He tried to bridge the gap that seemed to yawn between them since she went undercover and he lost his Master.

"Something happened on your mission."

She shook her head, and for the first time since her return, she met his eyes. "Not something. Someone."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first time writing about Obi-Wan and Siri, and about Star Wars for that matter, so I encourage any kind of feedback on the plot, characters, parts you like, etc.
> 
> Up next: Siri is unable to keep her secret from Obi-Wan as she struggles with postpartum depression and readjusting to Jedi life. He proposes something (or rather, someone) that could help fill the void her son left.


	2. The Second Son

"Someone?" Siri's correction intrigued Obi-Wan.

Her blue gaze flickered left and right. No one else was in the vicinity. She composed her features into a guarded look before leaning closer to him, just as friends would in order to share a secret. At the next words that left her lips, Obi-Wan couldn't help pulling back in shock.

"Siri..." was all he could say.

She tensed, and once again Obi-Wan rested a hand over her shoulder in an attempt to loosen her up. If she braced herself for pontifications and scoldings, she wouldn't get any from him. He wouldn't judge. Judgment was not the Jedi way. Despite that, he was sure that Siri had been subjected to a stern lecture or two from the Council. She looked like she had heard enough already. Producing offspring wasn't supposed to be the result of any mission. Then again, a baby that could be brought into the Temple and raised here must have been a gift from the Force.

"What's his name?" Obi-Wan murmured.

Siri shook her head. "Sorry, that's about as much as I can tell you. I can't say exactly who he is and where he is. Anything more and the Council won't be happy that I broke a promise. You're not supposed to know about this. For the record, Anakin knows, too. He swore along with me to keep our mouths shut, so I've got to hand it to him that he hadn't told you and you heard it first from me." She hissed out a rattling breath between her teeth and ran a hand through her hair. "I'm in enough trouble with them already. I've skirted enough lines. I have to prove to them that I'm really back in the Order now."

Obi-Wan was next to shake his head. "You don't have to prove anything, Siri. You finished the mission and came back. That in itself proves where your heart truly lies. The others may not be very convinced and want convincing, but you don't have to convince me." His hand flitted down to grip hers. "I know that you've always been one of us. You never lose focus, or your commitment. You said that once to me, remember? I believe that wholeheartedly. I know that to be true."

He had a firm but assuring grip, a palm warm yet calloused from wielding a lightsaber. As for Siri, she had not touched her lightsaber since going undercover. Her dueling skills were rusty and desperately needed polishing. Just one of many facets of Jedi life that she was instructed to reacquire. Unlike his, her hands were blistered and rough at the knuckles, from tousles and brawls she often got into to keep Krayn's lackeys in line and out of her personal space. Yet those same hands once cradled and tended to one of the most precious, vulnerable, and fragile things in the galaxy: an infant.

That undercover mission had both hardened and softened Siri, if such a thing was possible.

She hadn't told him much, and couldn't, but Obi-Wan could sense unspoken volumes of mingled trials and joys from that time undercover just by looking at her face and feeling her hands.

Siri didn't seem very convinced of what he had said. "If I'm so committed, then readjusting to Jedi duties should be easy. But it's not." Her voice rose and gained a sharp edge as she went on, "I don't have an appetite, I can't sleep, I get cranky and snappy, and worst of all, I swear like a Hutt. I'm just such a kriffing wreck, Obi-Wan." Her hand flew up to her mouth, then her cheeks grew pink with embarrassment. She uncovered her mouth and mumbled, "See what I mean? I should've gotten over all this by now. I only had the baby for two months."

"It can take less than that to change your whole life," Obi-Wan said softly. He knew that from experience. In a whirlwind of days, he lost Qui-Gon, became a Knight, and took in Anakin to be his Padawan. It had all happened so fast. Sometimes he woke up thinking that had been a dream. The day would go on to assure him that it wasn't.

What Siri said next brought him back to the present, and brought him a glimpse of the whirlwind she had been through. "I carried him, delivered him, sang to him so he could sleep, and fed him from my own breast." Her voice trembled. "He gave me peace and purpose. He made me so happy. Those were the best two months of my life."

Obi-Wan could never claim to understand, but his heart went out to her. "I'm sure they were."

"It's wrong to miss him. It's a consequence of attachment. That's why I've been such a mess. The healers say it's postpartum depression. They say that I'll recover when I can detach myself from the baby."

That made Obi-Wan frown. "Bringing him to the Temple was the right thing to do, but I'm not so sure if it'll do you any good to forget about him."

Her blue eyes snapped up to him and glinted fiercely. "How could I ever forget? He kept me alive and sane in a world full of violence and ugliness." Then the light in her eyes dimmed. "No, Obi-Wan, it's a matter of keeping my distance from him. He has to grow up here not ever knowing what I am to him. That's the conditions the Council had set, and that's what I'll follow in order to keep him here."

Obi-Wan found the Council's terms to be unnecessarily harsh. Clearly it was taking a huge toll on Siri's health and emotional wellbeing. Whatever mental exercises the healers must have suggested weren't being effective. But who was he to question the whims and wisdom of the Council? Perhaps worry and sympathy for his good friend clouded his judgment.

Siri may have posed as a slaver, but Obi-Wan didn't doubt for a moment that she had been a genuine mother to her son, whoever he was. Giving him up must have been the hardest thing she had to do, along with keeping her cover. Obi-Wan had nothing but admiration for her strength. But that wasn't what she needed to hear right now. It would just annoy her to hear that from him when she felt otherwise.

So he squeezed her hand and said, "Thank you for telling me all this. Thank you for trusting me."

Siri fixed her gaze to the triangle of grass inside her crossed legs. She was the kind of person who didn't return thanks and compliments, but Obi-Wan felt the gap close a bit between them.

It both amazed and dismayed Siri that she could break her pact of secrecy with the Council just like that. Obi-Wan had a way of winning her trust. Confessing to him felt like draining pus from an infection. Painful, but liberating. Bottling up everything inside hadn't felt healthy. That made her feel a little better, but not by much. There was a gaping hole in her chest. A hole her baby had once filled.

Obi-Wan cleared his throat. "I'm not a healer, but if I may be so bold to suggest, I think I know what might help you."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh? What might that be?"

"An apprentice."

Siri actually wrinkled her nose. "Me? Become a master? I'm not ready for that at all. You're joking, aren't you, Obi-Wan?"

He didn't smile. "I'm being serious."

She cracked a grin, the first one that he had seen since she had returned to Coruscant and the Order, but only to scoff at herself. "I'm the last person who should take on a Padawan. There are many Knights who'd be much more suitable and qualified than me."

"Have any of them been a parent? I highly doubt that."

"Being a parent won't make me a good master."

"I beg to differ."

Siri continued to be more and more perplexed by Obi-Wan's sudden, far-fetched proposal. "I don't see how an apprentice can learn or benefit at all from me."

Obi-Wan went on as if he had never heard her. "There's an initiate who I think would be a good match for you. Maybe you've heard of him. His name is Ferus Olin."

Siri had distanced herself from most of her peers, and scouting for potential Padawans never once crossed her mind. Still, even she had heard word of the gifted, popular student who caught the interest of many prospective masters.

She didn't think it was possible anymore, but she belted out a laugh. "Obi-Wan, you've got to be kidding. There's no way I could be a teacher for Ferus. That's a recipe for disaster. If you're doing this to amuse me, it's working."

Her good friend frowned. Apparently amusing her wasn't his intention. "I think that you and him would be compatible," he insisted. "He could learn a thing or two from you on looking at the Jedi way from another angle, which, gifted he may be, is what he needs."

She waved a hand at him. "'From another angle,' that's rich. You mean how to not be a Jedi?"

"Siri-"

"Enough, already, Obi-Wan. I can't take an apprentice. I'm not going to keep repeating myself."

Obi-Wan rose on his feet from his meditating position and turned up his palms in resignation. "Well, I tried. Think about it, though. I mean what I said. Speaking of Padawans, I can't leave mine unattended for a long time."

He left Siri to shake her head with a crooked grin. She tried in vain to slip back into meditation. Obi-Wan had a way of winning her trust, plus getting under her skin. Just one of the many qualities she found endearing.

Siri couldn't shove Obi-Wan's notion to the back of her mind for long. After the weekly checkup with healers, one of them passed onto her the message from Grand Master Yoda. He had requested Siri's audience, and hers only, after the checkup. Confused but compliant, Siri met up with Yoda in an arena for sparring. That confused her further. She had expected to meet him in one of the shaded rooms for group meditations and smaller meetings among the Council.

She bowed low before Yoda. "You wish to see me, Master?"

"Indeed. Resettling smoothly, I hope?"

"I...I could be doing better, Master." No use with lying or hiding in front of a Jedi with centuries of wisdom on his diminutive shoulders. He must've known the answer before she even spoke. It was written all over her face.

Yoda acknowledged her honesty with a gravelly "hmmm." "Struggling, I see. Restless and aimless, you are."

Siri furrowed her brow. "Aimless? Master, I'm not sure what you mean by that." Struggling and restless, yes. But aimless? If anything, she dedicated herself to the sole goal of assimilating back into the Jedi ranks. She aimed on nothing else. She hadn't seen her son since he was taken away. Anytime the temptation to see him crossed her mind, she'd spend hours in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, under intense meditation to purge herself of such urges. Such attachment.

Of course, her confusion didn't go unnoticed by Yoda. And her confusion only grew when he set down his gimer stick and pulled out his lightsaber. "A single spar is worth many words, it is said. Draw your lightsaber, you will. A specialist in Ataru, are you not?"

The Grand Master had a reputation for his unorthodox approach to teaching, but he never ceased to surprise her. The fact that he, the undisputed master in Form Four of lightsaber combat, called her a specialist almost made her laugh.

"You overestimate me, Master. I'm afraid I'll embarrass and disappoint you with a very short fight. My skills still need a lot of work."

"Decide your fate before the fight has even begun, young Siri?" Yoda gently reprimanded. He ignited his lightsaber and slipped into the Ataru crouching stance. "Talk by sparring, we will."

Talk? Siri could barely catch her breath, let alone talk, as she and Yoda fell into a dance of sorts across and around the arena. Their lightsabers spun in blurs of violet and green. Siri's feet constantly drew semicircles along the floor as she tried to match Yoda's jump-fueled flurry of blows. His small size certainly didn't hinder the flow of his moves. In fact, it was an asset. Siri strained to keep him in sight as he hugged the ground one moment and soared above her neck the next. She'd been very good about staying in shape even while undercover, and kept her lean, athletic build since she had been a Padawan. Still, she had difficulty keeping up with the Grand Master. Her rotations weren't as fluid, her pivots not as smooth. She swung down to parry Yoda's upward slash, but wasn't fast enough to twist around and bring up her blade as he leapt behind her and right onto her shoulders. His weight knocked her off balance and hunched her over. She stumbled a few steps forward to keep from falling.

At the green lightsaber held close to her throat, a few inches shy of a fatal strike, Siri surrendered and lowered her own weapon. She sweated and panted hard, while Yoda jumped off her and retrieved his gimer stick without so much a sign of any exertion on his wrinkled face.

Siri sank into one of the spectator benches to catch her breath. "I don't know what you got out of that, Master."

"Improving in your technique, you are. But improve in your foresight, you must."

She nodded glumly. He didn't need to elaborate. She couldn't anticipate his moves fast enough. Couldn't even plan her own moves and notice much else about her surroundings. She focused her efforts just on fending off the small, whirling target that had been Yoda. "Was that what you meant by aimless, Master?"

"Much energy, you have. Channel it properly, you must."

Siri frowned. "I'm doing everything I can to readjust to Jedi life. I spend every waking moment working to call myself worthy of being a Jedi again."

Yoda pointed his gimer stick at her eye level. "Not seeing beyond that, your problem is. Need to see clearly, to see farther, you must."

"How can I do that?" Impatience bubbled up inside her. An all too familiar sensation she could never quite let go since she was a youngling. "What must I do, Master? What more can I possibly do?"

"Patience, young Siri." Yoda said this with a chuckle and a kind twinkle in his eyes. "Look to the Padawan candidates, you must. Look to Ferus Olin."

All Siri could give him was a befuddled look. Obi-Wan had just brought this up with her the other day. And Yoda didn't mention just any initiate. He recommended Ferus, of all people. Just like Obi-Wan had. "Master, with all due respect, that is a ridiculous idea."

Now Yoda scrunched his brow. "Being ridiculous, I am not," he said sternly.

Normally fearless and bold, especially when she had been undercover, Siri dipped her head meekly before the Grand Master. "My apologies."

"Good for the Padawan, it will be. Good for you, too, I believe." Then his voice softened. "Put energy into caring for your son, you once did. Lost your purpose as a parent, you have."

Siri felt the breath knocked out of her chest as if Yoda Force pushed her. Before she could stop herself, tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.

"Find your purpose again as a master, you can. Direct that energy into training an apprentice, you can."

Siri looked down at her palms. "You really want me to do this, Master?" You and Obi-Wan, she almost said. But she didn't want Yoda to know that Obi-Wan knew her secret.

Yoda nodded. "A fine master, you would make. A parent who needs a child to raise, you are."

Again she dipped her head. "I'm humbled that you would consider me at all to take an apprentice."

"Follow my suggestion, I hope?"

Siri had to smile. "Yes, Master. You can be quite persuasive."

Yoda seemed to approve that with an upward twitch of his long ears. "Dismissed, you are. Reach out to Ferus, you must."

Siri bowed before departing. On her way to find Ferus, she spotted Obi-Wan and Anakin sparring in the arena at the other end of the hall.

Hard to believe that would be me and Ferus soon, she thought.

Honestly, she still had great difficulty picturing herself as a master passing on sagely guidance to an apprentice. But if Yoda himself recommended the notion, and with her friend Obi-Wan unknowingly backing him up, then obviously they could see the bigger picture better than her.

Obi-Wan withdrew his lightsaber. "You fought well, Anakin, but keep in mind to not let your emotions get the better of you. Calm and focus should guide you in a fight, not frustration or excitement."

"Yes, Master," Anakin mumbled.

Obi-Wan hadn't noticed Siri watching nearby until he turned to leave the arena. "Sorry, Siri, another time. Anakin wore me out today."

She smirked. "I wasn't going to ask you for a spar. I already had mine with Yoda."

"Oh, did you?" That made him raise his eyebrows.

"He beat me, of course. But that wasn't the point of him wanting to see me."

Obi-Wan dismissed Anakin to let him rest in his quarters, then turned back to Siri. "What did he want you for?"

She folded arms across her chest and chuckled. "Funny enough, he also suggested that I take an apprentice."

Both his eyebrows shot up. "And you accepted?"

"It was hard to refuse."

"That's great, Siri."

She dug a fist into his ribs. "Are you just pleased that you were right?"

"Maybe I am." He grinned and ducked away from her expert jab. She got him right where she knew he was ticklish. "You know, Ferus is turning thirteen soon, and so far no other Knights have chosen him. None of them felt that they would make a good match. He's ripe for the picking."

Siri inclined her head. "Well, I'm still not so sure if we'd be a good match, but I'd hate to see such a gifted student waste his potential just because he wasn't chosen."

Obi-Wan patted her shoulder. "All the more reason that you should be his master, Siri." He tried to choose his words carefully. "I know that taking in Ferus won't and can't replace your son, and I haven't the slightest clue or understanding of what it's like to be a parent, but I know this: once a parent, always a parent. You could never forget, you said. So don't. Embrace it. Be the parent that Ferus needs."

Maybe, just maybe, she could think of Ferus like a second son. Obi-Wan had missed that smile that made her eyes crinkle above her cheeks. He hadn't seen it in a long time. His heart soared to see it grace her face now.

"Thanks, Obi-Wan. I'll go do just that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The spar scene with Yoda was an unexpected addition to this chapter. Initially I was just going to have Obi-Wan-Siri interactions. Up next: Siri tries her hand at the master thing. She and Anakin bond as she defends Obi-Wan in response to Anakin's doubts and gripes about his master.


	3. Raising and Training

Ferus didn't have much of a choice. Still, after Siri asked for him and he pulled away from the other initiates, she didn't stray from the formal inquiry. "Ferus, would you have me as your master?" She asked him.

He bowed low before her. "I'm honored that you would have me as your Padawan," he said. "I look forward to learning from you, Master Tachi."

Ferus accepted his apprenticeship with grace and polite gratitude. Siri didn't expect anything else from a boy who was wise beyond his age. If he was giddy about being saved from the unfortunate fate of not being chosen, he hid it very well. She recalled having the widest grin and hot, flushed cheeks when Master Gallia had taken her in.

The match was made official in a short, formal ceremony in the Jedi Council chamber.

Siri didn't know how much word of mouth circulated among the initiates and Padawans about higher-ranked Jedi, or how much they knew of her. Was she infamous? Controversial, even? She wasn't going to ask Ferus, and she certainly wasn't going to show how nervous and anxious she felt about wearing the new, heavy mantle of Master.

"I apologize in advance if I come off as rough around the edges," she told him after the ceremony. "It hadn't been so long ago that I came out of an intense undercover mission for two years. Readjusting to Jedi life takes some getting used to. I hope you can bear with me."

She expected Ferus to look her up and down with raised eyebrows, with the kind of skepticism and dismay expected of a Padawan stuck with someone who had some learning to do herself. Instead he looked up and received her warning with open arms.

"You've seen and done many things outside of the Temple. Meanwhile I have no experience and have been sheltered in the Temple all my life. I want to know more about the things you've seen."

His curiosity and willingness to learn was encouraging. It was difficult to unpack everything about the undercover mission all at once, but manageable in bits and pieces between bouts of sparring and meditating.

"The first thing I learned, and the hardest, is that the galaxy isn't so black and white," she said. "What's wrong and what's right isn't always clear. It's those times when you have to remember what it truly means to be a Jedi, and hold onto that with all your might."

"That must've been hard," Ferus remarked. "Acting as a slaver goes against everything the Jedi uphold and value." He frowned. "I wonder why the Council approves of those kinds of missions at all."

"Because the institutions and operations we infiltrate wouldn't suspect us in the least. Not everyone is up to the task. Staying loyal and true to the Jedi way in the most unpleasant situations isn't something taught at the Temple, I'm afraid. It's something you have to learn as you go."

Her new apprentice shook his golden-streaked head. "I wouldn't be able to do it. I can't even imagine being in your position two years ago, Master."

Siri had to agree. If Ferus kept up his strict, rule-abiding ways, he would have a difficult time adapting and following through on missions like the one she just did. "It's far from easy. Sometimes I still wonder how I came out in one piece. But if I can make sure you remember one thing from me, Ferus, it's this: know where you stand. Know which side you stand on. Then you can stand strong and tall with two feet on your own."

Ferus nodded thoughtfully at this, though it was clear that he wouldn't be able to fully grasp the truth and magnitude of her words until he had to face difficult decisions himself.

Though a year passed, there would still be some time before Siri and Ferus could go on missions together. She wanted to get better acquainted with his daily routine and fighting style before they could be sent to work on the field. After her last mission, she wasn't dying for the next one anytime soon. She would like more of the stable, orderly routine that came with living in the Temple and training her Padawan before she could face whatever the rest of the galaxy could throw at her.

Ferus was as perfect as any apprentice could possibly be. He never spoke out of turn, he always addressed her politely, and always paid undivided attention to anything she had to say or demonstrate. Teaching him her preferred lightsaber form reinforced and improved her own technique. Before that, she used to not believe that teaching someone else would teach her, too. She was nowhere close to Yoda's finesse. Still, with each day she grew more and more comfortable with the motions. They felt less alien. It felt like coming back home.

Compared to her dangerous, edgy stint as Zora the slaver, being Siri Tachi the master felt almost _boring_. But right now, she liked boring. She preferred that to the constant worry of getting caught, failing the mission, and subjecting all slaves under Krayn to a continued life of terror and misery. Ferus wasn't exactly the most exciting and colorful person to be around, but his adherence to the demeanor and habits of a Jedi were the rock and anchor she needed. At the same time, she provided a window for Ferus to peer through, so he could see beyond the Temple that sheltered him since infancy.

A good match, indeed. Siri publicly thanked Yoda for encouraging the arrangement, then discreetly thanked Obi-Wan for the same thing.

Of course, she hadn't told Ferus _everything_ about the mission. She left out Shodo and Sheehin. Her brief relations with the fellow undercover agent, her desperate need for human contact and intimacy during the darkest time of her life, weren't the most suitable subject to discuss with a fourteen year-old Jedi apprentice. And the product of that...unthinkable to bring up.

Putting in most of her time and effort into training Ferus diverted much of her thoughts away from Sheehin. Around Ferus, she made conscious efforts to be less irritable, brooding, and listless. Otherwise he'd ask where all that came from. Eventually she regained her appetite and got enough sleep every night. Whenever her son crossed her mind, however, it was in the privacy of her quarters, or in the Room of a Thousand Fountains. Certainly not in Ferus's presence.

When a year passed, Siri couldn't help wondering how Sheehin was doing. Was he walking already? Had he said his first word yet? What was it? Did he smile and laugh a lot?

Despite her attempts to banish the questions through meditation, those questions persisted and followed her into dreams. She dreamed of Sheehin toddling toward her on little, shaky legs, of how she reached out with both arms as he fell into her embrace, and how his big blue eyes twinkled at her as he laughed and showed two or three teeth poking through his gums. Siri sat up in her bed covered in cold sweat, chest heaving, and dried tears stuck to her cheeks. No way she could fall back asleep like this. She threw back the sheets, slipped on her thick brown robes, and rubbed at her face with a sleeve. She left her quarters to pace up and down the hall leading to a sparring ring.

She wasn't alone. Nearly hidden under the shadow of a pillar, Anakin leaned against it and looked up when she approached him.

"Couldn't sleep either, Master Tachi?" He asked.

She cracked a wry smile. "That makes two of us." Her smile seemed to have thrown him off guard. No doubt he must still remember the blistering tirade he received from her when they had been captured by Krayn together. Something glinted under the turns of his hands. Droid parts?

Anakin noticed the direction of her gaze and he shrugged. "I fix things when I'm an—er, not in a good mood."

Siri knew what he was about to say. Few possessions were allowed in the Jedi Order. Anger certainly wasn't one of them. Showing anger, or being scolded to control it, were among the most embarrassing things to many Jedi. As for Siri, she had thrown away that embarrassment a long time ago.

"Mind if I join you?" She asked.

"Um, sure." Anakin edged away to make room for her as she joined him under the shadows thrown across the hall. "Uh, Master Tachi, I just want to say that I'm really sorry for getting you in trouble with Krayn. And for putting, you know, your kid in danger."

"What's done is done. We're all back safe and sound. I shouldn't keep holding what you did against you. That's not the Jedi way. And if it seemed that I'd been holding on longer than I should have, I'm the one who should apologize."

That took him aback. "You're not angry with me anymore?"

"No, Anakin. I defended you when the Council grilled you for killing Krayn, remember?"

"Oh, yeah. Thanks for having my back." Despite his gratitude, he didn't smile. The shadows deepened the intensity on his young face, making him look older and darker. "Only my master and the Council know that before I came here, I was a slave on Tatooine. Well, now you know, too."

Siri regarded him with silent empathy and acceptance. That explained a lot. Even before knowing that, Siri had sensed a surge of emotions flowing from Anakin as he fought to free the slaves under Krayn, and took on the head slaver himself. She nearly cracked under the pressure of posing as a slaver for two years. She could not imagine living as a slave for the first nine years of her life. Anakin trusted her with that piece of the past. She imagined how some Jedi in-training might use that to belittle him if word got out. But that wasn't what kept Anakin awake tonight.

"What's bothering you?" she asked.

Obi-Wan's apprentice didn't answer right away, and was silent for a while, as if mulling over whether to tell her or not. Then he said softly, "I miss my mom. I wonder how she's doing back home. I hope she's doing okay, and I'm worried if she isn't, because I don't know for sure. I get dreams sometimes. They don't go away even after I meditate."

It was common knowledge among the Jedi that Anakin was brought into the Temple at nine years old: too old for the typical initiation of training. Siri didn't know much else about him, though, not even from Obi-Wan. He must have respected Anakin to keep much of his Padawan's prior life private. Once again, Anakin must be trusting her enough to mention his mother tonight.

He stopped fiddling with the droid part and looked up at Siri. "I'd never admit this to my master. I'm afraid of what he'd think. He'd probably scold me. I figure that you would understand better than anyone else around here. I miss my mom, and you miss your son. You must miss him, don't you?"

It was her turn to be frank. "I do."

"It's not my place to say it, but I'll say it, anyway." Anakin crossed his arms over his chest. "I don't think it's fair that you can't see your son. You're his mom. At least he's right here in the Temple and not whole planets away. You should go see him whenever you want."

Obi-Wan would have given him a lecture for speaking out of turn and complaining about the Council's decisions, but Siri had to smile at Anakin's boyish, unabashed sympathy for her. "As much as I'd like to, I won't. I'm his mother, but I'm a Jedi, too."

"And being a Jedi comes first."

"Yes," she murmured.

"Being a Jedi is hard."

Siri agreed with a silent nod. Then she said, "I wouldn't want any other kind of life, though. Maybe I say that because being a Jedi is the only kind of life I know, but I've gone on enough missions outside the Temple to see how much of the galaxy can be rough and ugly to Force-sensitives like us. Sometimes I think about what would have happened to my son if I didn't bring him here..." Siri shook her head. "I'm glad he can be raised as a Jedi. It's a sacrifice, yes, but also a great privilege."

"My master says that a lot, but honestly, it sounds better coming from you."

The sullen, resentful undertone in Anakin's remark didn't go unnoticed. At the mention of Obi-Wan, Siri ventured a change in the subject. "You don't seem very happy with him." She said this not to accuse Anakin of his feelings, but as an invitation to talk about them. She could tell that the boy had a lot on his mind. Maybe she wasn't being the most Jedi-like in her approach, but from her experience, a little venting did some good to relieve the pressure building up inside.

It didn't take Force sensitivity to see that Anakin and Obi-Wan were like rancors rubbing shoulders in a ring too small for them: tense and testy. Mutual frustration put a strain on their Master-Padawan bond. Like an invisible string between them, pulled taut and close to snapping.

At Siri's gentle prompting, Anakin blew out a sigh of mingled relief and exasperation. "Don't get me wrong, he is a great Jedi. But that's the problem. He is the _perfect_ Jedi. He knows the Code and the Jedi path like the back of his hand, and he nags at me every time I slip up in sparring or the other Temple exercises. He's just so...stiff. Doesn't know how to be flexible. If you try bending him over, he'll snap." Anakin's forehead wrinkled in the middle. "He doesn't like the way I fly, and he doesn't like the way I joke around with other Padawans. 'Outer Rim jokes,' he called them. 'Hardly appropriate in a respectable place like the Jedi Temple,' he said."

Siri had to bite back the kind of loud laugh that ended in an unflattering snort. Anakin imitated Obi-Wan's cultured, clipped Coruscanti accent to comedic perfection. He even nailed down Obi-Wan's habit of stroking the beard he'd been trying to grow lately.

"He can be such a stick in the swamp sometimes. Well, most of the time." Anakin looked up at Siri with undisguised longing. "I wish you had been my master. We would have been a great team."

Siri shook her head. "A master can't train more than one apprentice. That's just tradition. Besides, even if I didn't have Ferus as my Padawan and Obi-Wan didn't have to train you, we wouldn't make the best match."

"Why not? You and I are more alike than me and Obi-Wan."

She laughed. "Exactly. We're _too_ alike. Someone needs to keep our impulsive streak in check. You need someone to complement you, so the two of you together can balance out. Like me and Ferus, or you and Obi-Wan." The mirth dwindled into the recesses of her chest and she fixed Anakin with a serious, steady gaze. "Besides, there's a reason for why Obi-Wan is the way he is," she said softly. "I don't think he wants you to know this, but he hasn't always been this way now."

Anakin looked very curious. "You've known him for a while, haven't you? He told me that you're a good friend of his."

She nodded. "We go back since we were preteens. I was eleven, he was thirteen. I skipped two years to be in his lightsaber class. That's how we met. And let me tell you, Anakin, we did _not_ get along at first. We butted heads like a pair of reeks. In fact, back then, I was the rule-bound stiff, not him." She recounted the many wild missions that she and Obi-Wan undertook during their Padawan days. Anakin stood there wide-eyed, drinking up the flood of information like water in Tatooine.

"You mean you're telling me that _my_ master, the perfect Jedi, wanted to leave the Order to stay with some anti-civil war underground society made of kids?" It was mention of the shenanigans at Melida/Daan that finally made Anakin crack a wide grin.

Siri's eyes darted back and forth, as if Obi-Wan might be just around the corner eavesdropping. "Don't tell him I told you. He definitely won't like how you know about that."

Anakin winked at her. "Your secrets are safe with me."

"Thanks. What I'm trying to get at is that Obi-Wan has changed a lot since I met him. I understand why he's so much more cautious and conservative now, so bound to the Code and the rules. He got a taste of life outside the Order, almost left it entirely, and since then he's trying to prove that his heart and loyalties are here. He and I are alike in that way, I guess."

"I just wish he didn't have to be so critical all the time," Anakin murmured. "He tends to keep quiet on what I'm doing right and lets me know when I'm doing wrong." He stared down forlornly at the droid parts in his hands. "I just want him to be proud of me."

She rested a hand on his shoulder. "He's proud of you, Anakin, believe me. Maybe he doesn't say it, because he's afraid of showing it, but I've known him long enough to sense it whenever he's training you. I can tell it's in his eyes, and on the tip of his tongue, but it won't come out. You're gifted and he expects a lot from you. That's why he keeps pushing you. He wants you to succeed and be the best Jedi you can possibly be."

"You can tell all that just by looking at him?" Anakin looked impressed, then dismayed as his shoulders slumped. "That's great to hear, Master Tachi, but honestly, it'd be even better coming from him."

"I make no promises, but I'll see what I can do about that." Siri thought that she had been keeping Anakin up long enough, but she wasn't done speaking on her good friend's behalf. "He may be hard on you, but try not to be hard on him, too. You're his first Padawan. He's still trying to figure out how to best teach you. Now that I'm training Ferus, I understand the struggle. New masters are learning as much as the new apprentices. Obi-Wan isn't as perfect as you think. But something I'll always admire and respect him for is that he never breaks a promise. _Never_. You can count on him for that."

Siri thought of the promise she had made with Obi-Wan all those years ago, that after they confessed love for each other, they would put it aside for the sake of the Code and not speak of it again. She still held to her end of the promise. So did Obi-Wan. They respected the Code, and each other's dedication to it, too much to act on their feelings.

He went on to make another promise, as Qui-Gon died in his arms, that he would train Anakin. Siri had seen how Obi-Wan strived to carry on each day without Qui-Gon, to make sure that he followed his master's dying wish. She hoped that Anakin could see the earnest commitment underneath all the lectures and criticism.

"Think of him like a father," Siri suggested. "The Jedi are your family now, and he's responsible for you. Everything he says comes from how much he cares about you."

"A father, huh? I'll try to see him that way." Then Anakin chuckled. "So you're like a mother to Ferus, then?"

"I guess you could say that."

When he mentioned Ferus, Anakin wrinkled his nose, and Siri couldn't help grinning. It was no secret to her that Anakin disliked her new apprentice. Ferus hid it better, but he reciprocated the lack of fondness and friendship. They mixed like oil and water. Siri had hoped that they would eventually get along and become good friends like she and Obi-Wan had, but perhaps she was being too ambitious.

Anakin pulled away from the shadows, his face brightening under the moonlight. "Thank you, Master Tachi. I'll remember what you told me. I think I can go back to sleep now."

Siri suppressed a yawn. "Me too."

Anakin whirled around in mid-stride. "Oh, Master Tachi? If you ever want to talk about your son, I'm all ears. I missed my mom a bit less when I talked to you about her, so I want to return the favor."

His offer made her feel a swell of fondness for the boy. "Thank you, Anakin. Good night." She retreated to her quarters and back into her bed feeling less alone in her struggle with attachments.

* * *

Obi-Wan, Anakin, Siri, and Ferus trained in the same sparring arena the next day.

Qui-Gon's former apprentice noticed a change in how Anakin conducted himself in mock lightsaber combat. The boy's reflexes improved, and whatever tips and points of correction Obi-Wan slipped in between blows were accepted without signs of frustration. After ending the trade of slashes and parries with a bow, Obi-Wan expected Anakin to run off and stir up small talk with other apprentices training nearby. Though the others were farther away, Anakin would rather talk to them than with Ferus in the same ring.

Instead, when Anakin straightened up from his bow, he said, "Thank you for the tips, Master."

Obi-Wan didn't know how to properly react. "Er, well, I'm happy to help. I try."

"I know. You're doing the best you can, Master. I really am grateful that you put up with me."

As Siri and Ferus paused in their sparring to watch, Obi-Wan grew even more flustered beyond his usual composure. Such genuine gratitude from his apprentice, free of scowls and a sullen gaze fixed to the floor, surprised him.

"I don't have to 'put up' with you, Anakin," Obi-Wan said gently. "You're not a burden to me. You're doing your best, too, and you're improving your form every day. Keep it up." He was going to dismiss his Padawan with that, but he decided to end with something else. "I...I'm proud of you, Anakin. I want you to know that."

The boy didn't hold back from beaming. Obi-Wan couldn't remember the last time he had seen a smile that wide on his Padawan's face.

When Obi-Wan and Siri went off together to meditate at the Room of a Thousand Fountains, he gave her a pointed glance. "Do you have something to do with Anakin's attitude today?"

Her face took on angel-like innocence. "Me? I had nothing to do with that _today_." She didn't have to say yesterday, or last night, but it amused her that he picked up on Anakin's change in perspective. "You did good telling him how proud you are," she went on.

"I only kept it in because I didn't want to promote arrogance."

"People his age need some encouragement and validation every now and then. Especially if he grew up used to having it come from his mother."

"Oh, he told you about her?" Obi-Wan settled down on the grass across from Siri. "If he did, you two must be getting along well."

"I may be his friend now, but I'm not his master. You are."

"Yes." Obi-Wan wondered if Qui-Gon could be proud of him now the same way he was with Anakin. "I made a promise."

"A promise I know you'll never break."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: Comedy and sexual tension! The Jedi Temple isn't spared of the heat wave hitting Coruscant, and Siri's residual experience of intimacy isn't helped when she catches Obi-Wan sparring shirtless.


	4. Heat Wave

The Jedi Temple was under attack. Not by invading ships or armies, but by a relentless heat wave. The sun looked no closer and the gray haze of the sky looked no different from the day before. Still, everything and everyone took the brunt of the heat as if an infernal ball had blasted through Coruscant's atmosphere. It didn't help that the Jedi Temple's distinct spires rose above most buildings, closer to the sun, and overlooked the palisade of skyscrapers. And to make matters worse, the Temple's air-conditioning system short-circuited.

Obi-Wan felt the ramifications of this glued between his skin and Jedi tunic as he sat up in his bed that morning. "Oh, Force," he said with a sigh. The sweat stuck to him felt quite unpleasant, but he swallowed back his dismay and left his quarters trying to be optimistic. This heat wave would pass, and already he could hear the maintenance crew ambling past several levels of security to access the Temple so they could fix the air-conditioning. He would bear this inconvenience with patience and tolerance, as he always had.

He wasn't surprised to see Anakin unfazed by the heat. Nine years under the twin suns of Tatooine made the Padawan indifferent to Coruscant's recent flux in the weather.

"Jedi are supposed to be the image of serenity, but I sure hear a lot of Padawans whine about how hot it is today," Anakin remarked.

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. "Now's not the time to act smug," he warned Anakin. "Carry on as usual. Things will go back to normal soon."

Anakin nodded, but kept a crooked smile on his face as a nearby Mon Calamari Padawan loudly bemoaned the unsightly wrinkles on his webbed hands, which his water-dwelling people had the misfortune of suffering under such intense heat.

Obi-Wan set his lips to a firm line at his apprentice's thinly disguised attempt to hold back laughter. A Togruta initiate ran up to them.

"Master Kenobi, our instructor requests your presence in the courtyard. He is discussing Form Three and would like you to demonstrate it for my class."

"I'd be happy to," Obi-Wan replied, and he stared after the retreating initiate with amusement. "I didn't realize that my swordsmanship has caught the attention of an instructor."

"That's so you, Master," Anakin said with a nudge of his elbow against Obi-Wan's arm. "You just don't know how good you are." The boy straightened his back, crossed his arms, and cocked his head at a jaunty angle. "I'm proud of you, Master."

Obi-Wan couldn't help smiling at that impression of himself. "Oh, stop it."

Anakin burst out laughing. Obi-Wan tried to be less stiff and more lighthearted around his apprentice, and that seemed to have strengthened the bond between them.

* * *

Siri woke up in a foul mood and with her tunic plastered to her torso. Despite knowing better, she muttered colorful expressions in mingled Basic and Huttese as she pinched the collar of her tunic and jerked it back and forth in an effort to cool herself. Hearing that the air-conditioning was down only fueled her ire.

Ferus accompanied her on the way out of the complex of their quarters. Like all other human Jedi, sweat glistened on his skin and wet the tips of his hair, but besides that he didn't seem to let the heat bother him as he bid good morning to her and made no complaints about the weather.

Some Jedi decided to relax the dress code a bit to strip down into fewer top layers of tunic. A few wore none at all. Siri wanted nothing more than to throw off everything except for her leggings, but only men had that bare-chested privilege. Watching Aayla Secura walk down a flight of stairs made Siri wish she had some sleeveless, midriff-exposing article like what the Twi'leks wore for unusually hot weather today.

Trying times like this warranted reciting the first part of the Jedi Code, as her former master Adi Gallia had suggested. As Siri strode down hallways with Ferus past quiet but uncomfortable and sullen Jedi, she tried to run the first part of the Code through her head over and over.

There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no emotion, there is—oh, bloody kriff, she just wanted to hack apart some seeker droids.

"Seeker droids ain't workin' today," a Dug maintenance worker later informed her in rugged Basic. "We gotta divert power to restorin' the air-conditionin'." He jerked a thumb over his short shoulder to the droids that had been kept turned off and wired to supply the air conditioning system.

"Well, this is a load of bantha poodoo," Siri remarked in Huttese, which only the Dug understood and appreciated with a toothy grin.

"Poodoo it is, Master Jedi. Sorry, gotta find another way to swing around that laser sword of yours."

Ferus turned to Siri. "Master, may we visit the Archives?"

"Of course. You don't have to ask me every time, Ferus. I've never refused you."

"I just think it would be rude not to ask first."

She smiled down at her Padawan to show appreciation for his impeccable consideration. Ferus enjoyed poring over datapads in the Archives so he could be informed of the culture, history, and politics of various worlds he might visit on future missions. He was by-the-book and wanted to be prepared as possible, just like Siri had been at his age. But at her age now, and under this heat, Siri had no patience or willpower to sit still and read. She would go mad. She would much rather find someone to spar with, and Ferus was more interested in reading at this time, so after she helped him find the Archives, they parted ways and she made her way back to the sparring rings.

Obi-Wan could be her sparring partner. His recent devotion to mastering the defensive form of Soresu would perfectly counter her knack for aggressive, acrobatic Ataru. He would make a good tank to take her pent up frustration with this heat. Siri walked up and down the halls, but couldn't find Obi-Wan in any of the sparring rings. Finally she tried the outside courtyards and found him there. He was demonstrating Form Three stances to the initiates.

Oh, Force and kriff, stars and galaxies, he was _shirtless_. As if she wasn't hot and sweaty enough already, warmth sprang unbidden to her cheeks. The doors letting Siri into the courtyard hadn't even yet hissed closed when she spun around to retreat inside.

"Master Tachi, I would like you here as well."

Cin Drallig's call made Siri stop in her tracks. Great. She had to be involved, too. She reluctantly walked up to the class gathered before their instructor and Obi-Wan. She took her time making her way over, but she couldn't come up with any excuses to back away from the request.

Master Drallig seemed to take no notice of Siri's discomfort in his efforts to teach lessons to the initiates. "Master Kenobi, Master Tachi, given your history of starting off in the same lightsaber class and developing contrasting combative tendencies, I think that you two could help demonstrate Soresu's strengths in a sparring match."

"It would be my pleasure." Siri's cordial reply hid how flustered and embarrassed she felt by being this close to the most skin she had ever seen Obi-Wan show. She shouldn't be surprised that years of training and missions molded his body into a lean yet muscular build, but his habit of hiding that under fifty something layers of robes could take anyone off guard when he dropped that habit. For once, she thanked the blasted heat wave for the assumption that it was to blame for her flushed cheeks.

Obi-Wan slipped into the Soresu stance of pointing two fingers and his blue lightsaber at her. "Ready for a rematch?"

"Always." She activated her violet lightsaber in response and swung it back for the Ataru guard stance. She tried to match his light, playful mood, but she wondered instead how in the world he could act like that under the sun and drenched in sweat.

Siri moved first to close the gap between them in two twisting jumps. Master Drallig provided commentary while she and Obi-Wan traded quick, sharp blows.

"As you can see, class, this is the non-aggressive, defense-focused philosophy in action. Observe how Master Kenobi holds his ground and does not give Master Tachi any opening."

Amid the crackle of lightsabers clashing and the blood pounding in her ears, Siri feared that Master Drallig would say next, "Look at how sloppy and distracted she is. And is she ogling at Master Kenobi's chest? Oh, dear. Completely unbecoming of a Jedi. She ought to be expelled from the Order."

Master Drallig said nothing of the sort. That was her imagination going rampant and her irrational fear talking. During her days as a Padawan, she used to be praised for her focus in lightsaber combat. She couldn't lose her focus now, of all times.

Sweat trickled into her eyes and she blinked furiously to keep her sight set on predicting Obi-Wan's moves. She knew from their Padawan days that he hadn't always been a practitioner of Soresu. In fact, Qui-Gon's death prompted Obi-Wan to shift styles and approach lightsaber combat from another angle. Siri was accustomed to the Ataru-using Obi-Wan. She could match and counter the old Obi-Wan's moves in her sleep. Soresu-using Obi-Wan, the newer Obi-Wan, was harder to predict. Not to mention much more steadfast, enduring, and unyielding.

Siri, on the other hand, felt herself flagging. Her arms ached and her vision swam as if the courtyard was dunked underwater.

Master Drallig's continued commentary for the initiates didn't help. "Ataru's weakness is the short duration. Ataru's bursts of athletic moves take a lot of energy and do not hold up well to Soresu's use of patience and stamina. In fact, Soresu is practiced with the aim of not cutting down the opponent, but wearing them down."

Siri felt like her face was on fire. That had to be the heat getting to her, not Obi-Wan, she hoped. She raised her lightsaber, but not high enough for him to meet it with a parry. Her eyes fluttered shut, her knees gave way, and she tipped forward. She didn't know what else happened as her vision faded to black.

* * *

A high-pitched, monotonous beeping stirred Siri from a dark, dreamless stupor. Heavy breathing sounded off unusually close to her, like someone panted into her ear, until she realized that it was her own. She blinked open heavy eyelids to find the relieved faces of Obi-Wan and Ferus hovering over her. Her face must've matched theirs, because thank the Force that Obi-Wan wore his tunic now.

"Welcome back, Siri," Obi-Wan said. "We were getting worried about you."

She sat up in the treatment room bed with a groan. "What happened?" She raised her right hand to hold her throbbing head, but a tug at her wrist made her stop. She looked down to find that she was hooked to an intravenous line.

"You passed out while we were sparring," Obi-Wan went on. "Heat exhaustion, the healer said. A few Jedi are here in the Hall of Healing for the same reason."

"Well, doesn't change how I made a fool of myself in front of all those initiates," Siri said dryly.

"Not to worry. No one laughed at you for it. Master Drallig took that as an opportunity to remind the initiates about the importance of staying hydrated and avoiding overexertion."

She sighed. "I'm glad I can be turned into a few teaching moments today." She looked down at the line attached to her wrist. "Is it that bad that I need fluids?"

Ferus exchanged a glance with Obi-Wan before speaking up. "There's a valid explanation for that. While you were out, the healer informed us that your symptoms are stronger than in other patients here when your background's taken into account."

Like the majority of Jedi, Siri had very little knowledge of her family and homeworld. Of course the Order kept tabs on the origins of every member, but only a select few, like the Council, had access to the entirety of that information. The less a Jedi knew about where and who he or she came from, the better. The opposite would encourage attachments to kin and home. What Siri _did_ know was that she hailed from Volveng: a frigid world governed by ice, snow, and a fierce warrior-king with changeling power running through his bloodline. It made sense why she, unlike the former desert-dweller Anakin, fared poorly under all this heat.

"The perks of being a Volvenger," Siri said with a shrug. "Well, I'm awake and I feel better now. Ferus, tell the healer to get me out of this IV. I'm ready to go."

She swung her legs over the bedside, but Obi-Wan's hand on her shoulder held her back. "Hold your fathiers, Siri. You're not going anywhere. The healer recommends a night of rest here."

She slumped in the bed in disbelief. "One night?"

"Come now, one night's not going to kill you. The healer wants to monitor you some more before you can be discharged." A light twinkled in his eyes. "Consider yourself lucky. We just got air-conditioning back—some of it, anyway—and most of it's circulating right here in the Hall of Healing. You'll be resting in the coolest part of the Jedi Temple."

"I have to agree with Master Kenobi," Ferus said. "I would feel better about you staying here, Master. You would be much more comfortable in the treatment room than back in your quarters."

Siri regarded them with resignation. "It can't be helped. I'm outnumbered two to one—three if we include the healer."

Obi-Wan gave a sympathetic pat on her shoulder. "You're in an enviable position. Meanwhile I'm going back to my stuffy quarters. Try to get a good night's rest."

"All right, see you." Then she called his name so he turned at the threshold of the treatment room. "Today's match ended in a draw. Passing out doesn't count as a loss. You're up for a rematch sometime?"

He cracked a grin at her. "Always."

"Hey, that's my line. Never thought you'd be one for theft, Obi-Wan."

His chuckle rang down the hall as he left.

Later that evening, the cool air in the treatment room should have eased Siri into sleep, but she stayed awake and restless instead. She scolded herself over the embarrassing turn of events earlier today. For galaxy's sake, she wasn't a teenage girl with raging hormones anymore. Seeing Obi-Wan shirtless really shouldn't have made her blush. She had slept with another man, for crying out loud, and had a baby as a result. Not that Siri had ever asked around, but she felt certain that she had more sexual experience than all the female Jedi in the Temple combined. A man covered in half of his clothes shouldn't have bothered her. But maybe that was the problem. Because she couldn't help thinking what Obi-Wan looked like with the other half of his clothes off...

Siri squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head to rid herself of the thought. Instead the thought emblazoned itself behind her eyelids like a brand. The monitor at her bedside picked up on her quickening pulse and heart rate. Though it had been a few years since she slept with Shodo, phantom sensations of his grip on her legs, his weight pinning her down and rocking her, came back to haunt her and flood her body with an aching warmth. Shodo had been a cold, uncaring man, but he wasn't a droid. He had responded to her touch, reciprocated it, and took pleasure in her body enough to make a child with her. The primal yearning to feel that again, coupled with the image of Obi-Wan seared into the back of her eyelids, evolved into the wish that she could have shared that intimacy with him instead...

"Stop it," Siri hissed. "You are a Jedi. Obi-Wan is your friend. Pull yourself together."

Jedi discipline and conditioning kicked in like a foot to the crotch. Overwhelming shame purged all the warmth out of her and left her cold and shivering. Her heart rate slowed back to normal. She rolled over on her side and curled up tight in her bed. She certainly couldn't confide in Obi-Wan about these strong, inappropriate feelings for him, let alone act on them. Doing so would break the pact they had made to each other, and break the Code. Sleeping with an undercover agent hadn't landed her in hot water with the Council. Having Sheehin did. Though Siri strived to follow and obey the Code, sometimes she thought it peculiar for frowning upon caring for her child but not sleeping with a man. Well, that was because she had developed an attachment for her son, not the man she had brief relations with and never saw again. Intercourse itself didn't go against the Code. Whatever led to attachments did, however, and intercourse often preceded that. Her relations with Obi-Wan had never gotten past the first kiss, but both of them knew better than to take it further, because their attachment would be undeniably mutual. That, the Code dictated, was dangerous and not the Jedi way.

Her best friend definitely didn't have to know that his decision to go shirtless earlier today was the culprit responsible for stirring up old passion within her. She thought that outgrowing their teen years would help them move on and dull the flame between them. Perhaps that was the case for Obi-Wan, who always seemed to carry himself with cool-headed dignity and grace. Not for her, though. Instead, her experience with Shodo fanned the flame and made it hotter and bigger. Obi-Wan had moved on while she remained stuck in the past.

Siri strived to divert her thoughts to Sheehin. He had to be three years old by now. Old enough to undergo simple patience exercises, like a teacher leaving sweets on the table and instructing the youngling to wait until he or she could have permission to eat. Could he sit still and resist the temptation, or would he be impatient just like her and swipe the candy as soon as the teacher left? Thinking about that made her smile. Siri could be certain that her son was at least half Volvenger. She hoped that Sheehin hadn't cried too much or gotten too cranky from the heat wave today. Three years didn't completely take away the pang in her heart whenever she thought of him, but wishes for her to see him no longer crossed her mind or haunted her dreams. Sheehin was where he needed to be, and that put her at ease. Maybe she was moving on too, in her own way.

* * *

The maintenance crew had the air conditioning system up and running again within two days, and by the sixth day, the heat wave died down. Siri's experience with sweaty, clingy Jedi tunics during the heat wave, however, left a lasting mark that compelled her to try on something new. Or rather, something from her days as Zora. Inside a ship where slaves were crammed into tiny holding transports and constantly radiating collective heat, leather jackets with sweatproof lining underneath was the trend among Krayn's goons. Siri had taken up the usual fashion to blend in. Now she brought it back to stay away from Jedi tunics for a while. Long hair didn't mix well with sweat, so she also chopped off her shoulder-length blonde hair to leave behind an undercut, though she kept the fringe along the top of her scalp and hanging just above her eyes.

Obi-Wan, knowing nothing else but Jedi tunics even while at a hot desert planet like Tatooine, didn't stray from the dress code despite the heat wave. Of course he noticed when he saw Siri making her debut in typical Siri fashion: arriving late to the mission briefing before the Jedi Council. This assignment to Tacto would be the first time he and Siri would work together since they were Padawans. Now they had Padawans of their own. Siri decided to commemorate the occasion in style, it seemed.

"We appreciate your punctuality this early in the morning," Master Windu said to the gathering of Jedi and Padawans, while giving Siri a pointed look.

She cut a smart, sharp figure in the close-fitting, dark red unisuit. It also brought out the curves to her bust and hips, which were previously kept hidden under the formless Jedi tunic and robes. Obi-Wan had politely kept his gaze fixed to her face when he nodded to acknowledge her entrance, though his peripheral vision missed nothing. Anakin didn't hide looking impressed with Siri's new look.

When the assigned party filed to the ship that Siri would pilot, Anakin took the chance to comment. "You look wizard, Master Tachi."

She shot Anakin a crooked grin while Obi-Wan bit back a sigh. "I decided to change things up a bit after that awful heat wave."

"Awful? I didn't think so."

"Yeah, _you_ wouldn't, desert boy. If you had come from a freezing planet like me, you would've been roasting." Siri reached over to tousle Anakin's short hair and he ducked away laughing.

Obi-Wan couldn't help feeling a pang of envy as he overlooked this exchange. He had made progress on exchanging lighthearted jibes and banter with his apprentice, but Siri still seemed to have the upper hand on loosening him up and really getting on his good side.

She sat at the front to take the controls, then gestured at Ferus to take the seat next to her. "Come on, I'll show you how to pilot this one. It's not the easiest to land, but I got a few tricks up my sleeve that you could pick up someday..."

Anakin strapped next to Obi-Wan as Siri continued sharing piloting tips to Ferus and prepared the ship for takeoff. He leaned over to whisper, "Hey, Master, what do you think of how she looks today?"

"How who looks?"

Anakin snickered. "Don't play clueless, Master. You know who I'm talking about." Then he raised his voice so everyone inside the ship could hear. "Master, you think Master Tachi looks awesome today?"

Not for the first time, Obi-Wan wished he could slap tape across his mischievous Padawan's mouth. Now he was forced to answer. Siri even paused in flicking on the controls, and twisted in her seat to look over at him expectantly. Obi-Wan felt the stirrings of an old flame he thought had died out long ago. Since the day they had met, he always thought her to be very beautiful. The blaze of her bright blue eyes had a way of making his heart skip a beat. Her suit and shortened hair brought out that brilliance even more now.

"I like it," Obi-Wan finally managed out lamely. "The haircut, I mean."

"Thanks." Her eyes twinkled at him before she turned back to the controls.

Anakin turned up a palm with surprise and disappointment. "Just her haircut? Want to compliment her on anything else? Like the suit, maybe?"

Obi-Wan crossed his arms and schooled his features into the sternest expression he could muster. "That's quite enough, my very young Padawan. Focus on the mission."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anakin knows something's up between Obi-Wan and Siri. He's very gifted in the Force, after all.
> 
> Obi-Wan was sparring shirtless, so Siri took revenge by showing up in a unisuit!
> 
> Given how Siri is a Norwegian girl's name, plus her blonde hair and blue eyes being the typical Scandinavian look, my headcanon for Siri is that her homeworld has a climate, culture, and society based on Vikings and Nordic countries like Norway. I'd like to do a sequel that explores Siri's heritage and has her and Obi-Wan getting involved in a mission and civil war at Volveng.
> 
> So I put a disabled!Siri warning in the summary and maybe you're wondering if Sheehin will ever show up. Both will come around when I cover the Clone Wars. Exactly how Siri will be disabled...well, you'll have to find out when I put up the chapter!
> 
> Up next: back to the regularly scheduled angst. Obi-Wan helps Siri cope with her feelings after Ferus leaves the Jedi Order.


	5. Failures and Friendships

After that fateful mission on Korriban and reporting to the Council, Ferus remained in the chamber because he wished to speak with them. Siri waited for her apprentice outside. She waited for a long time. Afternoon waned into sunset by the time the doors hissed open and Ferus came out with his head hung low and eyes downcast.

Siri frowned down at him. "Ferus? What's wrong?"

He struggled to meet her questioning eyes. "Master, I'm leaving the Jedi Order."

Her heart sunk onto the floor. "What?" she exclaimed. "You're leaving _now_?" She didn't ask why, because she knew, and he didn't have to tell her. Still, his solemn declaration struck her in the face.

Her Padawan was right on the cusp, so close and well on his way to Knighthood. He was the apple of her eye, the saying went, and a source of her pride that bordered on maternal and, quite frankly, un-Jedi-like. He shouldn't leave now, of all times.

Ferus couldn't maintain eye contact for long. The lump in his throat bobbed. "Please, Master, don't take this to mean that I disliked being your apprentice." He blinked hard. "It's just…I can't be in the Order anymore. I can't become a Knight. Not after what happened to Darra on Korriban. I'm very sorry, Master."

Siri couldn't force him to stay, but she wished she had even an ounce of Obi-Wan's eloquence and way with words to convince Ferus into changing his mind. "You can't hold yourself responsible for her passing. None of us do. Especially me. I hope you know that, Ferus."

Despite the conviction ringing in her voice, and the fire blazing in her blue eyes, Ferus didn't look convinced as he shook his head. "That may be so, but still…I can't in good conscience think that, too."

Her stubbornness seemed to have rubbed off on him—a natural result of him being her apprentice. Holding Ferus against his will would do him no good, and would only torment him even further.

"I already spoke to the Council about my resignation. They respect my decision."

Siri stood speechless and scrambled to find a coherent reply. If he spoke with the Council, there was nothing she could do now but respect his decision, too. "A-all right," she said, though she felt anything but that. Concern for him flared up inside her. "What will you do, then? Can you at least tell me that?"

"I'm sorry, Master, I don't know," he admitted, probably for the first time in his life. "I'll find my way around, though. Even though I will no longer be a Jedi, the Force will keep guiding me."

Siri had to accept that as his answer. She stepped back and bowed to him. "It has been an honor and a pleasure teaching you, Ferus. I wish you only the best in whatever you set out to do. May the Force be with you, my Padawan."

Ferus returned her bow and his voice shook. "And with you, Master. Thank you for everything."

Siri couldn't bring herself to face anyone after Ferus left the Temple. She spent the rest of that day sequestering herself in the Room of a Thousand Fountains. Despite Ferus's assurance that his resignation had nothing to do with her, Siri couldn't help feeling like a failure. What could she have done to be a better Master for him? If she had been a better Master, he would have stayed. Hundreds of what-ifs swirled in her head, despite a fervent attempt to banish those from her mind while meditating. She screwed her eyes shut and tried to slow her breathing, but soon the tumultuous chaos of her thoughts became too much to handle. Siri uncrossed her legs, rose to her feet, and decided that she could best sort out her feelings by sparring.

Still very much inclined to avoid any social interaction, she found some space to herself and programmed seeker droids to the most advanced setting. Her lightsaber whipped and thrummed violet arcs in the air like a horde of disturbed bees. She clove into droids and scattered their metallic remains throughout the ring with more force than necessary. Blood pounded in her ears and chest so hard that she couldn't hear Obi-Wan behind her, calling her name, until he had to raise his voice. She stood amid the mess she made, and he expected the invisible weight of fatigue to slump her shoulders. Instead she whirled the lightsaber with flicks of her wrist to point it at him, almost as if in accusation.

"Fight me, Obi-Wan."

There was no trace of the usual friendly competition in her voice. No goading smirk playing at her lips. The challenge came off flat, serious, and meaning business.

Obi-Wan frowned. "Siri, I don't think this is the best time for us to—"

Her headlong charge cut him off. Siri drew her lightsaber back for a sideways swing, which forced Obi-Wan to activate his own to block the blow. Their blades crackled under the lock, then Siri knocked him back with a Force push from her free hand. Obi-Wan's feet moved quickly and spread wide to keep him from falling over as he skidded back. He continued to implore her as he relaxed his guard stance.

"Siri, let's sit down and talk this out. You need to calm down—"

"I _am_ calm. Can't you tell?" Her eyes narrowed. "Maybe you don't know me as well as you thought you did, Obi-Wan."

His heart sunk in dismay. The blows he exchanged with Siri launched him into hyperspace in time back to their rival days. Their friendship, like a tower carefully built over the years, was knocked down under swings of their lightsabers, it seemed. That put them back on rocky ground.

Siri wasn't a one-trick bantha. She preferred and mainly practiced Ataru, but she had also gained proficiency in Djem So under the tutelage of Adi Gallia. Sweat trickled down Obi-Wan's back as he tried to keep up with Siri's onslaught. Unlike their match during the heat wave, she clashed against him with a better counter to his maneuvers. Gone was the red-faced and flustered Siri on the verge of fainting under the heat. Gone was the playful smirk and twinkling eyes he was often treated to when he sparred with her. Here was a fellow Jedi steeped in focus and precision, her eyes flat and cold as a distant icy moon, and her lightsaber a violet hum cutting through the air.

To his surprise, Siri switched to a one-handed grip of her lightsaber and advanced on him with the elegant but deadly swings of a Makashi fencer. Obi-Wan's heart sunk even further. Soresu didn't fare well against Makashi. Jedi were taught to be versatile and were exposed to many lightsaber forms during their training, but in Obi-Wan's dedication to mastering Soresu, in building up the defense he came to excel in, he neglected to put in enough time making up for his weakness.

He paid for this mistake now. Siri batted away his defensive blocks and advanced close enough to lash out with a kick to his thigh. Obi-Wan buckled to the floor grunting in pain, his stance broken and his double-handed hold on his lightsaber loosened. Siri disarmed him with a hard flick of her wrist. His deactivated lightsaber flew from his hands and clattered off the arena. In the split second his gaze and hand followed his weapon to retrieve it with a Force pull, Siri tackled Obi-Wan to lock him in a sprawled position on his back. Her left foot pinned down his wrist, her right knee dug below his sternum, her free hand held down his other arm, and the hot, violet edge of her lightsaber hovered inches over his throat.

Obi-Wan would have raised his hands in surrender, if Siri let him. The cold blue in her eyes pinned him down the hardest.

"I win," she said in a low voice. "That makes us even."

Even with his disheveled hair and a sheen of sweat over his face, Obi-Wan made a weak jibe. "If I had hit the back of my head against this floor hard enough and blacked out, that would really make us even."

His attempt at humor was rewarded with a smirk crossing her face. She released her hold on Obi-Wan, deactivated her lightsaber, and extended a hand to help him to his feet. He used the Force to return his lightsaber to his hand, then his belt. Siri didn't take him down that time, to his relief. Knocking the fight out of him seemed to have knocked the fight out of her. She had made significant improvements to her fighting techniques since she came back to the Order. Obi-Wan rubbed his sore thigh. He would have to look out for her close combat moves from now on. Maybe even pick up a few tricks. They might come in handy later.

Siri watched him stow away his lightsaber. "It wasn't so much the win. I just wanted to see if I still had focus. A purpose. You said Ferus would give me that. You and Master Yoda." She dropped her gaze and furrowed her brow. "But Ferus is gone now, so I wanted to make sure that it didn't leave with him."

Obi-Wan felt a twinge of guilt in his chest. He was partially responsible for Siri taking an apprentice. She never would have done it otherwise. He thought that would have been good for her. He certainly didn't mean to hurt her. He accepted the blame, even if she didn't point a finger at him in accusation. "Siri, would you like to talk now? Without lightsabers this time?" He asked gently. He wasn't an idiot. He had been on that mission on Korriban, too, and he knew what was going on. He certainly wasn't going to ask if she was all right, because clearly she wasn't. Whether she wanted to talk, however, was a valid thing to question.

Siri blew a gusty sigh and raised her sweat-soaked sleeves in resignation before dropping them to her sides.

After he helped her clear the area of destroyed seeker droids, he beckoned to her to sit next to him. She obliged, drawing her knees close to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. Red-orange bars of a Coruscanti sunset stretched along the floor through the Temple windows. Soon the stars would twinkle above them.

"I feel like I failed Ferus," Siri murmured. "I wish I could've done something to free him from all that guilt he took with him." Past mistakes she had made welled up in her, sprang to her mind, unbidden and uninvited. "And the way he was treated by his peers, ostracized by them…I wish I had caught that, too. He tried to hide it from me, I know that now, but it's too late. I should've sensed earlier that beneath the front he puts up, that drive to be the best Jedi he can be, is a lonely boy without any real friends." A crooked grin flitted on her face. "I used to be like that, too, when I was his age. You remember, Obi-Wan? I focused only on being the best version of myself, so much so that I skipped levels to be in your classes even though I'm two years younger. I put all my time into training. I didn't know then that I had passed up chances to make friends. Well, until I met you."

That wasn't news to Obi-Wan. He kept a group of close friends since they had been sorted into the same clan and grew up together. Garen, Bant, Reeft, and Quinlan. It all started since they had gathered around him to fend off Bruck Chun, the bully who had bestowed him the dreaded childhood nickname, Oafy-Wan. Siri came into his life later since she used to be in the class below him, but even to this day she kept a distance from his circle of friends and didn't belong in a circle of her own. His friends were nice enough to her, and she was civil around them, but because too many dismissed her as "just a pretty girl," years of her efforts to be taken seriously over building friendships lasted to adulthood. Siri didn't make room for a lot of people in her life. On top of her reluctance to open up and ask for help when she needed it, she was used to shouldering through burdens and challenges all by herself.

She found a true friend in Obi-Wan, and earning that status took him years and an intense rivalry to get through first.

Siri balled up the sleeves over the crooks of her elbows. "If I had encouraged Ferus to make friends, to rely on them, then maybe he wouldn't have put so much weight on his shoulders. It was a lesson I should've taught him. Now it's too late. I failed as a Master."

Despite protests that sprang on his tongue, Obi-Wan held them and said nothing. Not yet. He only prompted her with a silent, imploring gaze to go on, because he knew that she was far from done.

Siri seemed to appreciate his patience, and she went on, "Our fellow Jedi won't say it to my face, but there'll be talk, I'm sure. I'll be known as a Master who couldn't keep her apprentice. The Master who couldn't push her apprentice into Knighthood. I'll be made as an example not to follow." She fixed her gaze to her leather leggings, and lowered her voice to a whisper. "I'm ashamed to be thinking of these things. I should be thinking more about what will happen to Ferus, if he's going to be okay, than what others will think of me, but I…" Her voice choked up to the point that she couldn't go on. She buried her face into her folded arms.

Obi-Wan rested a hand on her shoulder, trying to send waves of comfort into her through the Force. He caught a glimpse of vulnerability that Siri would never let most have the chance to see. She trusted Obi-Wan enough to open up to him. Her trust wasn't something so easily given away. She had always been the woman to be very sure and confident in her abilities and how she carried herself. She didn't need anyone to hold her hand or tell her how she ought to be doing things. In recent years she had taken a liking to wearing a leather unisuit over the traditional Jedi garb, and habitually showed up late, or "showed up on her own time" as she called it, to summons and appointments with the Council. So what if Siri raised a few eyebrows? That undercover mission to bust Krayn and his slave operation made her something of a rule-bending rebel in the Council's eyes, but Obi-Wan knew her well enough that at her core she was no rule breaker, but fiercely loyal to the Jedi Order and never wavering in her commitment to them, even through the deception and often brusque, rough-around-the-edge facades she had to adapt for the dangerous undercover missions she had come to specialize in. Obi-Wan had always admired her boldness and independence. Siri seemed to not care about what anyone thought of or said about her. On the outside, anyway.

Siri sounded too choked up to go on any further, and it was then that Obi-Wan chose to speak up. "It's all right and natural to feel this way," he murmured. "It's not healthy to bottle it in. What's important is that you acknowledge your feelings and give it up to the Force."

Siri closed her eyes, drew in a deep breath, and let it out in a long, shuddering sigh as she relinquished her feelings to the Force and to Obi-Wan. His gentle understanding, through his voice and touch, had a way of unraveling the tightest coils in her chest. No one else had that effect on her, and despite his encouragement to acknowledge her feelings, she didn't admit this even to him. Certain feelings were better left unsaid.

"The others will say what they want to say, but I know without a doubt that you were a great Master, Siri," he went on. "And I'm not saying this just because I'm your friend. Ferus admires and respects you very much. He came up to me admitting that many times before. Most of all, you helped him grow tougher, more independent, and more relaxed. Have you noticed that, Siri? You've passed on your best qualities to him. He had grown since you took him in. Isn't that what a Master ought to do for his or her Padawan?" Obi-Wan didn't let his hand fall from her shoulder all the while. "The choice he made to leave was difficult, but he didn't waver, and that takes a kind of strength that doesn't come easily. Did I think he's to blame for Darra's death? Certainly not. But by letting him go, you respected his need to find a place in the galaxy for himself."

"I thought his place was here," Siri said through a tight throat. "I had been so sure of it. He held such promise, such potential."

"And he will fulfill it elsewhere." Obi-Wan closed his eyes. "I can't say for certain what exactly Ferus will do, but I trust in the Force that he will do it well with what you've taught him over the years. Trust in the Force, Siri. You've taught him how to stand on his own two feet, even if turns out to be outside of the Order." Shame flickered in his eyes like the faintest shadow as he said softly, candidly: "I can't say that much for Anakin. Yes, he may still be my apprentice, but there's a reason that he wasn't chosen to undergo the Trials just yet. He still has much to learn." He shook his head. "Not Ferus. Siri, thanks to you, he's ready for whatever the Force has in store for him next."

The furrow in her brow flattened and her wet eyes softened. "Thank you, Obi-Wan. I needed to hear that."

She had grown to love Ferus like a son, and with him out of her reach, her tutelage, of course she worried like any mother would over his future. With Obi-Wan's encouragement, she handed over her worries and doubts to the Force, and realized that she had no reason to worry. Now she felt nothing but pride and hope for her former apprentice. She had done her part for Ferus as much as she could. There was nothing more to teach him. Ferus was free, no longer bound by the rules he strived for the longest time to follow. Siri had given him that independence to break free. He wouldn't go on to become a Knight, but he could still do some good for this galaxy. And someday, through the will of the Force, perhaps she could see him again.

Siri blew out a shuddering sigh and ran a palm through the back of her sweaty neck. "All that fighting and cutting open my heart to you took a lot out of me. I'm tired and starving."

"I know just the place to perk you up," Obi-Wan said.

"Oh? Where might that be?"

The corner of his mouth twitched upward. "Somewhere you wouldn't expect."

Together they left the Temple and Obi-Wan piloted a speeder. Siri raised her eyebrows as they sped past the gleaming, upscale Senate District to stop in the more rugged Collective Commerce District, or fondly known to its locals as CoCo Town. Obi-Wan led her into a diner, where the hot, heavy scent of grease hit them like a wave. A good kind of wave, though. One that smelled of home-cooked comfort food and made Siri's mouth water.

Obi-Wan had to raise his voice to be heard over the clamor of customers. "Dex, table for two, please."

A hefty, rotund Besalisk clad in an oil-patched apron waddled out from behind the counter. "Obi-Waaaan," Dex boomed. "Good to see you again, buddy."

Siri watched in amusement as Dex swept up Obi-Wan in all four of his arms into a tight hug. She heard the breath knocked out of Obi-Wan's chest before he laughed and hugged back.

The Besalisk finally released Obi-Wan and looked up at Siri. "Oh, who's the pretty lady with you? A girlfriend?" Then he belted out a hearty laugh and winked. "Just kidding. I know you wouldn't be caught dead getting yourself a girl, Obi-Wan, my good ol' Jedi pal."

Obi-Wan chuckled. "No, Dex, we're not together like that. This is Siri Tachi, a fellow Jedi and a good friend of mine since we were children. Siri, this is Dexter Jettster, the diner's owner."

Before she could even bow in greeting, the Besalisk clapped his upper two hands over her shoulders and clasped the lower hands over hers to pump them up and down in a vigorous handshake. "A pleasure to meet you, Siri! Just call me Dex. The friend of my friend is my friend, too."

Despite her fatigue and overall glum mood, Siri had to smile at Dex's unbridled enthusiasm.

His wide hands took up most of their backs as he herded them to an available table by the window. "What can I get you for drinks? Jawa juice? Photon fizzle?"

Obi-Wan asked for the first and Siri asked for the second. Dex left the two Jedi Knights to themselves while a waitress droid brought out their drinks and took their orders.

"Not only does Dex give out the best hugs, he cooks the best nerfburgers," Obi-Wan said.

"I believe you." Siri leaned back in the booth and looked around before turning her gaze back to him. "Well, you were right. I wouldn't expect to find you in a place like this."

"That might have been true if Qui-Gon hadn't sent me on so many missions in the rougher parts of Coruscant, like CoCo Town or the underworld." A wistful smile crossed Obi-Wan's bearded face as he stared past the window. He remembered simpler times when the galaxy seemed smaller, and trouble seemed to run amok only on the seedy streets of Coruscant. "The most valuable lesson I took away from that is this: if you bother to get your hands dirty and dig through the rubble, you'll find the hidden gems."

"Like Dex and his diner."

"Precisely." Obi-Wan paused to take an appreciative sip of his cup of Jawa juice. "So, what do you think of him?"

"He's quite the character. How did you meet him, anyway?"

"On a mission to catch a Rodian underworld smuggler while you had been undercover. Dex had helped me out of quite a few binds, from an empty stomach to leads on shady characters he happens to know, like that Rodian smuggler I eventually caught. He's been all over the galaxy and has seen his fair share of its oddities and mysteries. He went prospecting and selling souvenirs for a while before he set up shop here to fulfill his lifelong dream of being a chef. Rough around the edges, but he has sense and a big heart. Dex is a good fellow I can count on."

The waitress droid rolled out of the kitchen with a pair of steaming, mouth-watering medium-well nerfburgers. Siri didn't think it was possible for one's spirits to lift with a single bite of food, but Dex's cooking proved her wrong.

"This is the best burger I've ever tasted," she exclaimed.

"They really are good, aren't they?"

"I'm never going back to food in the Temple dining hall again." Then Siri quickly corrected herself. "Okay, not _never_, but food at the Temple is going to be plain and bland compared to this. I'm tempted to come here for all three courses of the day!"

"Now you understand my secret struggle," Obi-Wan said wryly.

Siri almost spat out the photon fizzle she had been sipping. "What struggle? You're in good shape. If you put on weight from all the food at Dex's diner, I would have noticed during the heat wave." Then her face grew hot. She wanted to duck under the dining table and stay there. Obi-Wan really didn't need to know that she had paid special attention to how criminally fit and shirtless he had been on that day.

To her surprise, it was his turn to look embarrassed as he looked away and scratched at his beard. "Thank you for the assurance, Siri. My homeworld has only half the gravity of Coruscant, and my metabolism isn't the quickest. I gain weight quite easily if I'm not careful about my diet and exercise routine. I worry a lot about that."

"Oh. Don't be." Siri played with the checkered paper wrapping between her plate and burger. "You worry too much, Obi-Wan. That'll make your hair gray, and I'm sure you don't want that, either."

He smiled at her. "No, I don't."

Obi-Wan and Siri heard Dex's heavy footsteps long before they saw him return to their table.

"How are we doing over here? How are the nerfburgers?"

Obi-Wan gave the Besalisk two thumbs up. "Excellent, as always."

"I don't know what's a better word than excellent, but I have to agree with Obi-Wan," Siri said.

Dex beamed at them. "Good to hear. I got a reputation to keep up in CoCo Town. Siri, maybe Obi-Wan already told you that I make the best nerfburgers around here."

"He did, and you live up to your name, Dex."

"Feeling better after dinner?" The diner owner asked her. He scratched at his bloated wattle. "You looked kind of blue walking in, not literally speaking."

"You're, um, very astute." She sighed. "I've had better days."

Dex startled Siri by pulling her up into a firm, earnest, four-armed hug. "I don't know what it's about, and you don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but I just want to say that everything will be okay. Not right away, but eventually. My door's open anytime you want to come in for a good chow or a chat."

The Besalisk's open friendliness in the mere hours they knew each other took her breath away and overwhelmed her. "Thank you, Dex. I definitely want to come back someday."

"That's music to my ears." He lowered her gently back into the booth. "Spread the word to the rest of your friends back at the Temple."

"I already got that started with Siri tonight," Obi-Wan said with a wink.

Dex winked back. "Roping in more Jedi clientele will only be good for business."

Obi-Wan paid for the meal, then he and Siri wished Dex good night. They flew back to the Temple, this time with Siri offering to drive, with full stomachs and on the verge of food coma.

"Thanks a lot for dinner," she said. "For everything today, really."

"You're very welcome, Siri. I knew you would like the place."

Her wistful remark was almost lost in the thrum of the speeder's engines behind them. "Dex seems like a good friend. I hope that Ferus finds friends like him."

"He will. I can't say when or how, but he will. Years ago I never thought I would be friends with someone like you or Dex, and look where we are now."

Siri flashed Obi-Wan a warm and appreciative smile, which he almost missed in the nighttime gloom and fleeting lights, before she returned her gaze to the air traffic milling around them. Thousands of Coruscanti locals in speeders and transports whizzed by, with many places to be, things to think about, and indifferent to the invisible, strengthening bond between two Jedi Knights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> None of the EU novels covered how Siri felt about Ferus leaving other than the fact she never took another Padawan, so that was something I definitely wanted to include in this fic.
> 
> I love Obi-Wan's friendship with Dex. That's one of my favorite scenes in AOTC. Expect to see more Dex from me.
> 
> Up next: Entering AOTC territory! In response to Anakin's omen-like nightmares about his mother, Obi-Wan and Siri are assigned to check on Shmi in Tatooine. Plus other AOTC-related events.


	6. Dreams and Bonds

After years of Obi-Wan and Anakin embarking on missions together, Senator Amidala's life in danger forced master and apprentice to part ways. The Jedi Council tasked Obi-Wan with investigating the mystery bounty hunter, while Anakin was assigned to protecting and escorting the Senator.

Obi-Wan drew Anakin aside after they left the Council chamber. "Be mindful of your surroundings and don't let the Senator out of your sight," he said in a low voice. "You are her friend, but first and foremost you are a Jedi. Don't forget that."

Anakin lowered his gaze and his ears turned red. "I understand, Master. You don't have to remind me."

Anakin's infatuation with Padme from boyhood didn't go unnoticed by Obi-Wan. He had sensed a turbulent storm of feelings brewing within his apprentice the moment he laid eyes on the Senator he hadn't seen in a decade. Before Obi-Wan knew it, Anakin turned nineteen this year and stood almost a head higher than his master. It hadn't seemed so long ago when Anakin was just a confused nine year-old boy who went from slave to Padawan within mere days.

Anakin kept his gaze fixed to the floor as he hunched his shoulders and crossed both arms over his chest. "Sometimes I feel like you still don't trust me. Like I'm a kid who still needs to be watched."

"I don't doubt your skills, Anakin. You've shaped up to become a formidable fighter. I know you're capable of protecting the Senator. It's just...this is the first time in a while that you're taking up a mission on your own. Without me."

Anakin had to smile at Obi-Wan's reluctant show of paternal concern. "I'll be fine, Master. You trained me for this moment. I can't be your Padawan forever."

"Sometimes I find that hard to believe," Obi-Wan admitted. "You've grown up so fast before my eyes. You used to be this short." He put out his palm level with his waist, and Anakin laughed.

"Time flies."

"Indeed. Ten years feels like nothing."

The merriment died in Anakin's eyes and he resumed a serious tone. "Master, I may not be a Knight yet, but I'm not a boy anymore. There's a reason why the Council decided that I should protect the Senator."

"You're right," Obi-Wan conceded. "At this time, with assassination attempts one after the other, she'll be hard pressed to readily trust anyone. She'll feel safer with someone she knows, like you."

His last remark seemed to please Anakin as he slackened the tension in his shoulders and uncrossed his arms.

"Well, I never thought that I'd be saying this, but here's hoping that my mission isn't as exciting as yours."

Knowing that his apprentice liked a dash of danger and action to liven up a mission, Obi-Wan chuckled. "I hope so, too. I suspect that my mystery bounty hunter won't give up without a fight."

"Probably not." Anakin bowed. "May the Force be with you, Master."

"And with you, my Padawan."

Obi-Wan walked away feeling somewhat more assured that Anakin was up to the task. Putting more faith and trust in Anakin would take his apprentice closer to achieving Knighthood. The bird had to leave the nest and fly on its own eventually.

Obi-Wan pulled out the saber dart from his cloak and fiddled with it between his fingers.

His quest to identify the dart took him from the Jedi Archives to Dex's Diner, of all places. He didn't know why it took him longer than it should to figure out where the dart came from. Where the Archives failed, Dex succeeded in providing the information that Obi-Wan needed to track down the bounty hunter. He should have realized that earlier. Not for the first time that day, Obi-Wan thought that he ought to rely more on those he cared about.

"Hey, honey," the waitress droid called from the diner's entrance. "Looks like another Jedi coming in."

Dex turned in his seat and clapped his meaty hands together. "Well, look who decided to pop in here next."

Obi-Wan looked up at whoever Dex was addressing, and he grinned. "Siri, good to see you."

Her blue eyes twinkled at him. "Fancy seeing you here, Obi-Wan. I thought I had sensed you just outside the diner. Mind if I join you?"

"No, not at all." Dex took up almost the entire length of the booth at his end, so Obi-Wan invited her to take a seat beside him. "I assume that you've finished your stay in Hutt Space?"

"Thank the Force, yes," Siri exclaimed. "It's good to be back home." She winked at Dex. "I've been craving a nerfburger since I touched down on Coruscant yesterday."

"One nerfburger, medium well, coming up," Dex declared. "And anything for you besides that Jawa juice, Obi-Wan?"

"No, thank you, Dex. The drink is enough."

The Besalisk heaved his weight from the booth. "Well, I'll leave you two to catch up. Welcome home, Siri!"

As Dex ambled away, Siri moved to take his place across from Obi-Wan. "You've been doing all right, Siri?" He asked. "It's been a while since you left for Hutt Space." He hadn't seen her since she was sent to bust a few crime rings in worlds run by the Hutts half a year ago.

"No going undercover to pose as a slaver this time," Siri said with relief. "Just cut and dry Jedi intervention and arrests made left and right. The Council didn't want me going in too deep like my time under Krayn, but they figured I could make good use of my fluency in Huttese." Then she sighed. "Unfortunately that didn't help my bad habit with profanity."

"I actually find that part of you oddly endearing," Obi-Wan said.

"Do you?" He thought he saw a shade of pink across her cheeks, or was that from the neon sign just outside their window? "I guess I won't put in so much effort to drop that habit, then."

Dex waddled out from the kitchen balancing plates of entrees on all four of his hands, Siri's order among them. "One medium-well nerfburger for one hungry Jedi," he called.

She grinned up at the Besalisk. "Yes, please, and thank you."

Dex slid the food onto the table, and with his hand now free he patted Obi-Wan's shoulder. "Drink's on the house, buddy. In case I don't see you in a while, I wish you safe travels to Kamino. Bring a raincoat!" The diner owner left to serve the rest of his customers.

Siri paused in taking a bite. "Kamino? Is that a planet? Never heard of it before."

"Neither had I until Dex told me about it."

"You're going there? What have you been up to lately?"

Obi-Wan emptied his cup with one last long swig. "It's sort of a long story." He told her about the assassination attempts on the Senator of Naboo and ended at the Kamino saber dart sitting on the table between them. Siri was halfway through the burger by the time Obi-Wan finished.

"So that's why I believe I can track down the bounty hunter there," he said, and ran fingers through his long hair. "I get a feeling that I'm in for a wild goose chase on this one."

She looked at him with amusement. "I can't remember your intuition ever being wrong."

"Neither can I," Obi-Wan said with dismay.

She chuckled, then set aside her empty plate and leaned forward with forearms laid flat on the table. "Something else is bothering you, Obi-Wan. I've known you long enough that I can tell."

He shook his head. "Not so much me, but Anakin."

What Obi-Wan asked next took Siri off guard. "Do you ever get dreams about your son?"

"Not as much as I used to," she admitted. "But yes, sometimes. I would wonder how he looks with each passing year, how he's doing, and that manifests in my dreams, I suppose." She angled her chin to stare past the diner window wistfully. "My son has to be ten years old by now. In a clan. Next year he'll be old enough to become a Padawan, if he's chosen." She shook her head and pulled her gaze back to Obi-Wan's. "Sorry, I got carried away."

"No need to say sorry," He said in a soft voice. "It's natural for you to think about that...about him."

Nevertheless, she tried to bring the conversation back to its original tangent. "Anyways, you brought up Anakin. What do my dreams have to do with him?"

"Well, I had been meaning to ask you, because I wonder if Force-sensitives like you and Anakin tend to have dreams about people important to you."

Siri nodded. "A few years ago, Anakin told me that he would dream about his mother. They're vague, hazy, not involving her doing anything in particular, but just her face and the warm feelings the sight of her gives him."

"Oh. I see." Obi-Wan rested a hand on his bearded chin. He hadn't heard about Anakin's dreams until this year. It shouldn't surprise him, though, that his apprentice had first entrusted that knowledge with someone who would intimately understand that mother-son bond. Someone like Siri, not him, or any other Jedi. Concern welled from the pit in his gut. "That doesn't sound like the dreams he has been telling me about. Lately Anakin has been sleeping poorly because he would dream about his mother being in some kind of danger. In pain, and calling for help. Sometimes he swears that it's real, that it's happening, or about to happen."

Siri furrowed her brow. "That change has to mean something."

Obi-Wan stroked his beard and stared down his empty cup. "I would tell him that fear is clouding his judgment, not making him see clearly. But honestly, after what you've told me, I'm not so sure anymore..."

Despite his advice that dreams would pass with time, Obi-Wan couldn't push away the nagging doubt that what he had said to Anakin were empty words. He had to do better than that for his apprentice.

Ten years since leaving Tatooine didn't erase the bond between Anakin and his mother. That had been the danger in training a boy who grew up with attachments. Sometimes Obi-Wan wondered what Shmi Skywalker was like, since he had never met her and stayed in the Naboo ship throughout his visit to Tatooine. Clearly Anakin thought highly of her, remembered her fondly, and worried about her when dreams came back to haunt him.

Obi-Wan and Siri left Dex's Diner and headed back to the Temple together, so they could better mull over this in a quieter place like the Room of a Thousand Fountains.

"Anakin is the prophesied Chosen One, so it wouldn't be too far-fetched that it's possible for him to receive visions," Siri said.

Obi-Wan hesitated to jump to conclusions. "Perhaps. But there are more pressing matters to attend. I had been putting this whole issue with his dreams at the back of my mind."

"Maybe it's time to give that the attention it deserves," Siri murmured. "If Anakin can really see the present, or the future, and his mother is truly in danger, it wouldn't be wise to ignore that."

"But what if nothing comes out of it?"

"Either way, a simple visit to his homeworld would settle the question."

Obi-Wan stroked his beard in the brief silence he took to consider what she said. "I suppose Kamino can wait for a bit. I don't see the harm in me checking on his mother. Better that I go instead of Anakin." He sighed. "Knowing him, if the dreams get worse, that can get in the way of his mission to protect the Senator. He might even rush to Tatooine with her in tow, for all I know."

"Now you have me curious. The Council doesn't have any more missions lined up for me. Would I be asking too much that I want to accompany you?"

"Not at all." He smiled at her. "I would appreciate your company and your strength in the event of something going south."

They went to the Jedi Council so Obi-Wan could present his concerns about Anakin. Siri admired the way her good friend's calm, reasoned demeanor prompted the Council to listen carefully.

Mace Windu's reluctant expression was apparent behind his steepled hands. "A checkup, no more than that. If it turns out that Skywalker's mother isn't in any danger, then it'll be a quick round trip and an assurance for Skywalker, at least."

Yoda closed his eyes. "Hard to see, the future is. But go, for Skywalker's sake. The capabilities of the Chosen One, we must consider and discern."

With the Council's approval, Obi-Wan and Siri bowed before them and left the Temple in Delta-7 Jedi starfighters. Neither exchanged a word as their interceptors docked into hyperspace rings and they launched themselves into the Outer Rim.

* * *

When they landed on the spaceport of Mos Espa, Obi-Wan remained in his starfighter to contact Anakin.

His apprentice's hologram flickered on. "What is it, Master?"

"Anakin, I just wanted to let you know that the Council agreed to have Siri and I at Tatooine so we can check on your mother."

The disbelief on Anakin's face was obvious even on a small hologram. "Oh. All right. I didn't think you'd do that, honestly. Thanks, Master."

"Focus on protecting Senator Amidala. Let Siri and I handle things on Tatooine."

"She's still safe with me, Master. I hope to hear from you soon."

"I'll report back when I can. May the Force be with you, Anakin."

Siri had dismounted from the starfighter before Obi-Wan. Even with her hood firmly over her head, it was apparent that she had applied sunscreen beforehand as it glistened on her pale skin. A Volvenger like her definitely had to prepare for intense heat from two suns. Obi-Wan spared her a sympathetic glance as he climbed out of his starfighter.

"So, where do we start?" Siri asked.

"Anakin used to work for a Toydarian junk dealer named Watto," Obi-Wan said. "Shmi was still a slave when Anakin left, so it's likely that Watto is still in charge of her."

They asked the locals, who pointed the two Jedi to a junk shop. Obi-Wan and Siri wove their way through a sandy, bustling labyrinth of vendors and spacers. Finally, they spotted a blue Toydarian wearing half of a pit droid's head for a hat. He squinted at them with undisguised distrust and flapped his wings to meet them at eye level.

"Whaddya want, eh? Jedi, by the looks of ya." Smugness tinged the Toydarian's coarse voice. "Your hand-wavy mind tricks don't work on me."

"We're aware," Obi-Wan replied mildly. "We wouldn't dream of doing it to you."

"I don't take Republic credits, either."

Siri crossed her arms over her chest, matching Watto's curt, no-nonsense demeanor. "We don't want to buy anything. We're looking for a woman named Shmi Skywalker."

Watto's long, floppy nose swung back and forth as he looked between Obi-Wan and Siri. "Shmi, eh?" He scratched at his unkempt stubble. "Er, she ain't here at the junk shop anymore. I sold her."

Obi-Wan couldn't hide his startled dismay. "Where is she now?" He demanded.

"Sold off and married off to boot. Man who bought and freed her goes by the name Cliegg Lars." Watto pointed them to the southern Jundland Wastes, the direction of Cliegg's moisture farm, then Obi-Wan and Siri left to borrow speeder bikes. Obi-Wan had no interest in bringing up his relations with Anakin to Watto, especially with Shmi out of the junk dealer's hands. There was no time for small talk and catching up with someone who had kept slaves and didn't regard them as anything more.

"If it's any consolation, she's a free woman," Siri said.

Obi-Wan furrowed his brow at more than just light from the twin suns. "Yes, but if she's on the outskirts of the moisture farms, that puts her at greater risk with attacks from Tusken Raiders."

Siri sensed and shared his worry. All she knew about those masked desert-dwellers were from a datapad some years ago, but if Anakin's omen-like dreams were any indication, she might just see some Tusken Raiders for herself.

Obi-Wan and Siri reached the Lars homestead after sunset. Vaporators poking above the sand marked the moisture farm Watto had described. The Jedi sensed a spike of fear and hostility long before a young bearded man charged out with a blaster. Barely a few feet away from where they parked their speeder bikes, Obi-Wan and Siri whipped out their lightsabers to fend off blaster shots.

Obi-Wan threw back his hood. "Hold your fire," he called. "We are not Tusken Raiders. We mean no harm."

"Are you Cliegg Lars?" Siri asked.

The young man lowered his blaster, but only by an inch, and a scowl remained on his face. "Why should I tell you? Who are you? What do you want?"

Obi-Wan kept holding his lightsaber in case he had to defend himself again, and Siri did the same. "We are Jedi. We heard from Watto that Shmi Skywalker lives with the Lars family now."

"We know her son Anakin," Siri ventured.

"You know Anakin?"

A surprised female voice made the three whirl around to see a young woman run out of the dwelling. "Owen, put down the blaster. Can't you see these two aren't going to hurt us?"

It was difficult to make out facial expressions in the gloom of early evening, but the man named Owen clearly sounded defensive and admonished as he replied, "Beru, get back inside. We can't trust anyone these days."

The young woman named Beru stood her ground. "Do they look like they're with the Tuskens? Put down the blaster! I'm not going to say it again."

Owen complied with a grumble and turned back to address Obi-Wan. "You're looking for Cliegg Lars? He's my father."

"Someone called me? I heard my name." An older, grizzled man glided out in a repulsorlift chair, missing half of his right leg. "What's all the racket about?"

Obi-Wan deactivated his lightsaber and bowed. "Forgive us for the disturbance. I'm Obi-Wan Kenobi and my companion is Siri Tachi. We are Jedi visiting from Coruscant."

Owen inherited his wary expression from his father, who squinted at the uninvited visitors. "You're a long ways from where you ought to be," Cliegg said.

"Is Shmi home with you?" Siri asked. "We simply came on Anakin's behalf to check on her, then we'll be on our way."

Cliegg's hands balled into fists over his lap. "Shmi's not here. Hasn't been here for a few weeks now."

"What happened?"

"Tusken Raiders."

Obi-Wan and Siri exchanged an alarmed, horrified glance.

Owen rested a hand on his father's shoulder as the older man took evident effort to go on, "She went out to pick mushrooms one morning, then the Tuskens swooped in and kidnapped her. I put together a rescue party and went after them, but they took many of my friends and half my leg." Cliegg squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and shook his head. "Sorry, Jedi, but you won't see her. Nothing good ever comes out of being caught by those savages. Shmi is beyond saving."

Yoda's words to Siri years ago sprang into her mind. "Deciding your fate before the fight has even begun," she murmured.

Cliegg's gaze darted to her. "You said something?"

Siri shook her head. "Never mind." Then she rose her voice to address the family of farmers. "Obi-Wan and I will find Shmi, whether she's dead or alive."

Obi-Wan shared her conviction as he nodded. "We owe Anakin that knowledge."

Owen furrowed his brow. "Why isn't he looking for his own mother? He should be here, not two Jedi strangers."

Obi-Wan's calm voice belied how quickly he jumped to his Padawan's defense. "Anakin is a Jedi like us, and has a very important mission that keeps him from coming here. Like Siri said, we're here on his behalf to ensure that his mother is well."

"My wife is dead," Cliegg said bitterly. "Accept that, son. Spare yourselves the trouble of looking anymore into it."

"We can't be sure of what happened to Shmi until we see her for ourselves."

"Where are the Tusken Raiders now?" Siri asked.

"You want to go after those monsters?" Owen snapped. "That's suicide."

Beru's voice was filled with worry. "Few people ever make it back alive. Cliegg is extremely lucky."

Obi-Wan maintained his calm. "Siri and I know that Tusken Raiders aren't to be trifled with. We'll take great care. We just need to know where they were last spotted, and we'll be out of your hair."

Owen pointed to the stretch of sandy wasteland beyond the farm. "They went there, if you really want to know. Now go. It's not safe for all of us to be out in the open for this long."

"Let us pack water and rations for you," Beru offered. "It's all rocks and sand beyond this point. If there's another place for food and water on the other side, we don't know it."

"You two Jedi may be crazy, but at least you're not abducting savages," Cliegg said. "Enjoy Beru's hospitality while you can. You won't get any of that out there."

Obi-Wan and Siri followed Beru, Cliegg, and Owen into the underground safety of their farm. Cliegg talked about the recent Tusken Raider attacks all the while. Under light illuminating the interior, Obi-Wan could get a better look of Owen's wariness towards him and Siri. He pretended to be unaware of it as he and Siri emerged with loads of rations to stow into their speeder bikes. He could hardly blame these poor people for being on their guard. The desert wasn't kind to those who occupied it.

"Last chance to turn back," Cliegg said as the Jedi mounted their speeder bikes. "Look, I'm just warning you for your own good. I won't be surprised if I never see you two again."

Obi-Wan met Cliegg's eyes and sensed pained resignation behind them. "Thank you for everything, and I'm sorry about what the Tuskens took from you, but we have to go."

Cliegg shrugged. "I have a lot of questions for you, since you claim to know my wife's son, but I'm not going to make you stick around if you really have to get going."

With not the most ideal farewell to be left with, Obi-Wan and Siri zoomed away on their speeder bikes. They shared a grim silence as they neared the area that supposedly held the Tusken camp.

* * *

"What a wild goose chase we're on," Siri remarked as she dismounted from the speeder bike.

Obi-Wan raised a finger to his lips, imploring her to stay quiet, but he couldn't help agreeing with her. They had landed on Tatooine expecting Shmi to be with Watto, who told them that she was with Cliegg Lars, who then told them that the Tusken Raiders had her. He strongly doubted that the Sand People would be so kind to tell them where they were keeping her. _If_ they still kept her.

Obi-Wan banished the foreboding thought from his mind to focus on the task at hand. Below them, marked by the glow of fires and tents poking from the plains, was the Tusken camp.

"Let's get in and get out quietly," he murmured to Siri. "Tusken Raiders don't take kindly to intruders, but they don't have to know that we're here. I'd rather not start up a fight if we can help it."

In her younger days, Siri might've wanted to jump in with lightsabers blazing, but this time she nodded in agreement. She wasn't the Padawan itching for a fight anymore. They had to consider Shmi's safety, if she was even at the camp, in the first place. Keeping their heads low and cloaks tight around their bodies, the two Jedi stole into the Tusken camp like silent wraiths. They clung to the walls of the dwellings and shadows thrown about by campfires to keep out of sight.

Obi-Wan led the way and narrowed his eyes in concentration to search for Shmi's presence. He sensed a single human amid a camp of Tuskens, but the human presence was so faint that Obi-Wan thought he might've imagined it.

He was glad that Siri came along, because she too reached out to sense Shmi. She confirmed his intuition by pointing to a dwelling across from them. They snuck in through the door flap without the Tuskens noticing.

A dark-haired middle-aged woman hung limply by her rope-bound wrists. Dried blood stuck to many cuts across her lined face. Obi-Wan and Siri sucked in a collective, quiet breath. This had to be Shmi Skywalker, Anakin's mother, weakened by torture and imprisonment. Shmi was so still that the two Jedi feared the worst. But as Obi-Wan approached her, he heard her thin, pained breathing and sensed a weak but steady flutter of her life force.

Obi-Wan leaned over to say softly into her ear, "Shmi, we're friends of your son, Anakin. We're here to rescue you."

Shmi stirred at the sound of her son's name. "Ani?" She croaked. "Is that you?" She struggled to open eyes caked in dried blood.

Siri's heart went out to the older woman. "Don't worry, we'll get you out of here." She almost said "hang in there," but thought better given the unfortunate position they found Shmi in. Siri helped Obi-Wan untie the ropes.

Suddenly, the tent flap was thrown back and the Tusken warrior raised a fierce cry. Ululating hollers from other Tuskens broke the evening silence.

"Kriff," Siri spat out before she could help herself.

Obi-Wan acted quickly. "I'll take Shmi. You cover me."

Siri nodded. She Force pushed the Tusken who stumbled into them out of her way, then brandished her lightsaber to deflect incoming blaster fire. Tusken Raiders foolish enough to rush at her waving their gaderffi were thrown back by Force pushes. Protected by his fellow Jedi's intervention, Obi-Wan closely flanked her while carrying Shmi's limp body across his arms. As her lightsaber moved in a constant violet blur, Siri caught sight of unarmed cloaked figures from the corner of her eye. Women and children. They ducked into their dwellings in apparent fright while the males came at her and Obi-Wan to defend their brood. Obi-Wan ran as fast as he could to where he and Siri had parked the speeder bikes. As they made their way up the narrow ledges, Siri paused behind him to gather the Force to her palm. With a powerful thrust of her hand, like slinging an unseen sonic blast, she sent the trail of pursuing Tuskens flying. Their screams followed their falls.

Siri jumped onto her speeder bike while Obi-Wan carefully loaded Shmi onto his before jumping in after her. The Jedi kicked the acceleration to life and sped away from the Tusken camp. Obi-Wan had to trail behind Siri this time so he could keep one hand on the bike and his other arm firmly around Shmi without both of them falling off.

Obi-Wan could only imagine the disaster of Anakin coming into Tatooine to see his mother in this state, especially if he came too late. His apprentice wouldn't have hesitated in striking down Tuskens left and right. Thank the Force that he and Siri had come to Tatooine instead.

Obi-Wan didn't expect the Lars family to be waiting outside, but by daybreak, they emerged from their dwelling as he and Siri brought their speeder bikes to a halt.

"Shmi," Cliegg cried. "How did you...? Is she...?"

"She's alive," Obi-Wan assured him, "but she's badly hurt. Let's get her inside so we can check the extent of her injuries."

No time was wasted. The two Jedi Knights used up the medical supplies in their utility belts to treat Shmi's wounds. The bacta and injections they had available would suffice and speed up her recovery. Cliegg, Owen, and Beru had little choice but to watch helplessly when they didn't undertake the simple task of making Shmi as comfortable as possible in her bed.

Hair ruffled by the wind and cloaks coated in dust and sand, Obi-Wan and Siri slumped in aching exhaustion against chairs in the Lars' guest room.

"I'm glad you decided to come with me," Obi-Wan said between pants. "I wouldn't have been able to get Shmi out of that camp without you."

Siri smiled. "You're welcome."

Now that Shmi was safe and reunited with her new family, Obi-Wan figured that his and Siri's stay on Tatooine was over. At the same time, he didn't feel right about leaving Shmi without her getting properly acquainted with him and Siri. So he contacted the Council and decided that he should stick around until Shmi woke up. Cliegg significantly warmed up to the two Jedi since they had brought back Shmi. Owen relaxed some of his wariness, but not all of it, while his girlfriend Beru remained kind as ever.

Shmi laid unconscious in bed for two days straight, and finally stirred awake on the third day. By the amount of glowing gratitude on her face, Shmi looked like she wanted to bow deeply at Obi-Wan and Siri, but on account of her bed-ridden state she settled for inclining her head at them.

"Master Jedi, I can't thank you enough for saving me from the Tuskens. I certainly wouldn't have been able to come home to my family if it weren't for you two."

Obi-Wan bowed back at her. "We were more than happy to help. You had to recuperate first, of course, but we wanted the chance to properly introduce ourselves. My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Siri bowed as well. "And I'm Siri Tachi."

"A pleasure and an honor to meet you. A surprise, too."

"Your surprise is expected," Siri said. "You've never met us before, after all."

The ends of Obi-Wan's mustache twitched up as he made a small smile. "I bet you were expecting a man named Qui-Gon Jinn."

"Why, yes." Shmi straightened up in her bed too fast and winced before she went on, "You know him? He's the one who helped my son leave Tatooine so he can train to become a Jedi. Tell me, how is Qui-Gon doing?"

The hope and excitement bright in her eyes made Obi-Wan's heart wrench in his chest. So much had happened since his last visit to Tatooine. He hated to be the one breaking the bad news, but he had to tell her the truth. He knelt at Shmi's bedside and said softly, "I'm afraid that Qui-Gon passed away ten years ago."

Shmi sucked in a sharp breath and sank back into the pillows blinking many times. "Oh..."

"He was my Master. We had fought side by side against a powerful enemy, and I watched him fall."

Sympathy for him mingled with the sorrow and disbelief in her voice. "I'm so sorry to hear that. Qui-Gon was a good man. I thought he had been the one training Anakin all these years. Then who...?"

"I have been your son's Master. Before he died, Qui-Gon wished for me to train him."

"Then you have all my respect and appreciation for being his teacher. He hasn't been too much trouble for you, I hope?"

"No, not at all."

Despite his polite reply, Shmi's eyes twinkled. "You can be honest with me, Master Kenobi. I know more than anyone that he can be a handful sometimes."

Owen poked his head into the room. "Sorry, Mom, going outside will have to wait. Sandstorm's brewing. Big, nasty one, too."

Shmi addressed both Jedi now. "Please stay for dinner. Not that you have much of a choice, anyway. It wouldn't be smart trying to go out with terrible weather coming. Stay for the night, even, if the storm doesn't let up. It's the least we can do to repay you for your troubles. Besides, I want to hear everything about what Ani has been up to since he left."

Obi-Wan and Siri exchanged an amused glance. Shmi's insistence on extending her hospitality and catching up on the past ten years couldn't be curbed.

With Cliegg in his repulsorlift chair and Shmi discouraged from strenuous physical activity, Owen and Beru busied themselves in the kitchen to cook dinner for everyone. Obi-Wan and Siri offered to help.

Beru smiled at them. "That's kind of you, but you should relax and make yourselves comfortable. You're our guests, after all."

Owen, on the other hand, declined their offer much more brusquely. "We don't need your help. We can handle it." He barely spared them a curt sidelong glance before returning his attention to the boiling pots.

Siri gave Obi-Wan a raised eyebrow and opened her mouth, probably to slip in a sarcastic quip about how Owen is such a warm and welcoming fellow, but he gave her a pointed look and she kept quiet.

Though she and Obi-Wan had asked out of courtesy, Siri was relieved that she didn't have to help with dinner. The Temple always provided food to its occupants via the dining hall. On diplomatic missions, Jedi were graced with amenities from whatever world they had to visit. Siri and Obi-Wan never had to cook a meal in their lives. She wasn't keen on revealing that to this down-to-earth farming family on a desert planet. She and Obi-Wan were spared of the embarrassment, but that left them with not much else to do.

At first Obi-Wan thought it best to let Shmi have some quiet and privacy, but she coaxed him to come back into her room so they could talk more about Anakin. She couldn't wait for dinner to do that, apparently. Obi-Wan could hardly blame the woman for her curiosity. She hadn't seen her son in ten years, after all.

Shmi listened to Obi-Wan with rapt attention as he recounted many of his adventures and missions with Anakin. Despite her wounds, she laughed many times as she clutched at her sides. "Well, it sounds like my Ani certainly keeps you busy, Master Kenobi. You seem like a man with a good head on his shoulders. Sensible, grounded, and firm. Just the kind of teacher my son needs. A sort of father, even."

Her praise made Obi-Wan strive to maintain humility. "Anakin did say not too long ago that I was the closest thing he had to a father. I do what I can to guide him and pass on everything I know."

Siri came in to announce that dinner was ready. With a gentle yet firm grip around her waist, and hers over his shoulder, Obi-Wan helped Shmi get out of bed and make her way to the dinner table so she can eat with her family.

"I can't thank you two enough for saving Shmi," Cliegg said to Obi-Wan and Siri. "I can't believe you went into a Tusken camp and came out in one piece." His gaze settled on the lightsabers hooked to the Jedis' belts in admiration. "You must've laid waste to those monsters."

Obi-Wan awkwardly cleared his throat. "Well, we did fight them off, but didn't 'lay waste' to them, per say."

"What? You mean you spared them?" Owen set down his fork in apparent discontent. "They can come back. They'll be out for blood. And guess who they'll come for? Us!"

"Fear is a powerful force," Obi-Wan said. "The Tuskens won't be touching human settlements anytime soon."

That answer, though calm and reasonable, didn't satisfy Owen. He peered at Obi-Wan and Siri with disdain. "What good are those laser swords you Jedi carry around if you aren't going to mow down monsters like the Tuskens?"

This time Siri couldn't rein back her ire with Owen. "They're not 'laser swords.' They're lightsabers. And the Tuskens aren't monsters. They are people, like us, with women and children."

He stared at her across the table in disbelief. "You're _defending_ them?"

"The male warriors will take this defeat as a warning to stay away, and it's not our way to slaughter the innocent."

Obi-Wan came to her defense. "Siri is right. Don't worry about the Tuskens returning. We came to ensure that Shmi is well, and we did just that."

"Yes, Owen, that's enough," Cliegg said with a reproving tone. "Don't pick a fight with the ones who saved Shmi."

"No arguing over dinner, please," Shmi said gently. "I'm just so grateful that we can all be together like this." Everyone around the table fell silent at her request, and she closed her eyes. "It would be even better if Ani could be here, to tell you the truth, but it can't be helped that he has important things to do out there."

Siri helped Shmi back to her bedroom after dinner this time, and there she took the opportunity to have a one-on-one conversation with Shmi. Since hearing about her from Anakin, how she gave up her chance at freedom to let him go, Siri had developed a great amount of respect for the humble yet resilient woman, and wanted to meet her. "How do you cope with letting go of Anakin all those years ago?" She asked.

Sitting up in bed, Shmi folded her hands over her lap and looked down at them. "I miss him very much, but I take comfort in believing that he's doing great good for the galaxy. All mothers think this of their children, of course, but trust me when I say that Anakin has always been special." She looked up to meet Siri's eyes. "Did he or Obi-Wan ever tell you that he never had a father?"

That took Siri aback. "No, I didn't know that."

Shmi nodded. "It's true. Before Cliegg came along, I had never married. Never had relations with a man. All of a sudden Ani was just...there." She shook her head with a smile. "I don't know how to explain it. I don't think anyone can. It's a miracle, if Jedi like you believe in that kind of thing."

"There are many phenomena in the galaxy that we don't understand," Siri said. Suddenly feeling vulnerable, she shifted her weight by Shmi's bedside. "I asked about how you handle being separated from Anakin because, like you, I have a son I can't see. Attachments, like marriage and having children, are against the Jedi Code. My son was born strong in the Force so he's being raised at the Temple to become a Jedi, but on the condition that he can't know that I'm his mother, and that I can't be a part of his life."

Anakin inherited his unabashed sense of sympathy from Shmi. The older woman's face crumpled and she held Siri's hand. "That must be hard," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."

Siri appreciated her warm touch. "I shouldn't have any reason to worry since he's where he should be. I try not to think of him as I go about my duties and responsibilities."

A glint like durasteel flickered in Shmi's dark eyes. "Siri, I had been held captive, tortured, and deprived of enough food and water by the Tuskens for weeks. The secret to me going through all that is thinking of nothing but my son. Thinking of him kept me alive. I even called out to him in my delirium, even when I knew better that he wouldn't come."

"You reached him," Siri said. "All the way to Coruscant. He dreamed that you were in danger. That's what prompted Obi-Wan and I to come here and investigate."

That awed Shmi as she opened her mouth in a silent o, then she said, "Well, that further testifies the strength of a bond between a mother and her child. So don't stop thinking about your own, Siri. You never know when that can drive and push you beyond what you think is possible. Perhaps I have the luxury of doing that because I am not a Jedi, and you follow a path I don't quite understand, but that's what I really believe is best for you."

Siri felt her eyes grow wet. "Thank you, Shmi."

* * *

The door to Shmi's room was kept open, and through it, even across the dining room, Obi-Wan overheard the entire conversation. He spotted Siri and Shmi embracing each other. Both of their faces were the slightest bit damp from tears. That brought a flood of warmth to his chest and a faint smile to his face. Feeling intrusive on an intimate moment between two of the strongest mothers he knew, Obi-Wan turned away and ducked back into the guest room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shmi's death and Anakin's revenge on the Tusken Raiders was instrumental to his fall to the Dark Side. I think that if the Jedi (including Obi-Wan, much as I love him) had been more sensitive to Anakin's abilities, needs, and emotional wellbeing, and took the right approach, the tragedy would've been avoided.
> 
> I really enjoyed writing this chapter (arguably my favorite to write so far) because I've always wondered what would happen if Obi-Wan and Shmi had met. The inclusion of Siri is icing on the cake, because she and Shmi get to bond since they're both moms separated from their kids.
> 
> Up next: Part 2 of the AOTC arc.


	7. Dawn of The Clone Wars

Since staying at the Lars homestead, Obi-Wan and Siri had no choice but to share the guest bedroom. The moisture farmers didn't routinely expect company in the remote wastes, so the luxury of multiple, separate rooms was not an option. Fortunately, the single bed the two Jedi had to share was wide enough so that they could sleep on their respective sides without getting uncomfortably close and brushing each other's limbs in their sleep.

The sandstorm had swept in a few hours after dinner, and the sound of it sweeping through the Jundland Wastes kept Siri awake and restless for most of the night. Even in complete silence, in the tranquility of her Jedi Temple quarters, she would toss and turn a bit before she could find a comfortable position and drift into sleep.

When morning came, she woke up earlier than Obi-Wan to find him peacefully still and sleeping since they had laid down the night before. She envied him for his better talent at keeping still and sleeping through a noisy night. She swung her legs over the bed with a sigh of relief. Beds in the Jedi Temple, like with everything else befitting the simple Jedi aesthetic, were little more than mats rolled out directly over the floor. Everyone else in the galaxy slept on beds of raised mattresses. Siri was glad that she hadn't rolled over and fell right onto the floor in the middle of the night.

Up for a brisk morning walk, and enticed by the thought of feeling cool air on her skin before sunrise, she ventured outside the homestead. The wind that howled and the sand that swirled last night had died down. All was still and quiet around the moisture farm. She found Cliegg making slow, hovering rounds by the vaporators. He looked up from his inspection.

"Morning to you, Siri."

She made a little bow. "Good morning, Cliegg."

She knew she had made the mistake of having her gaze linger too long on what remained of his right leg, because he grinned and said, "You're wondering how I get through each day like this?"

She averted her gaze. "I'm sorry."

Cliegg shrugged it off. "Perfectly natural for you to wonder. My son used to do that. He worried himself sick at first. He thought I would always be stuck in bed." He gestured to his repulsorlift chair. "Well, I proved him wrong." Then he pointed to the vaporators. "Want to help me inspect these? You're a tall lady. You can check for spots I can't reach. We'll get the job done quicker with the two of us."

Siri walked around to check for valves and pipes still in place and functioning, and Cliegg went on, "It must be obvious to you that it's a tough life out here. You have to fight to see the next day. I wasn't ready to lie down and let Owen run the whole farm just yet. I still have things to teach him, like not getting so riled up with every stranger every time."

Siri bit back a chuckle. "He's like your apprentice."

"Sure. Owen's like my Padawan. That's the word you Jedi use for your students, right?"

"Yes. I didn't expect you to know that."

"Everything I know about the Jedi I heard from my wife. Shmi told me that's what her son Anakin had become. A Padawan. He's still Obi-Wan's Padawan?"

"Yes, he is."

"And what about you? You have one, too?"

She shook her head. "Not anymore," she murmured.

Thankfully Cliegg didn't press her for details. Though it had been a few years since Ferus voluntarily left the Jedi Order, his departure still left a sore spot in Siri's heart.

She returned the conversation to its start. "You are a strong man, Cliegg. You lost half a leg and still get up before the sun to check the vaporators every morning, as if the Tuskens had never attacked you." Something about Cliegg's laidback, earthy manner made Siri lower her usual guard around him. She had done that with Shmi the night before. This desert planet must be messing with her head. "I don't know if I could be that strong, in your position," she admitted. "A Jedi should not be arrogant, but I would be lying if I denied being proud of my skills and the time I've spent honing them." Her thoughts transported her past Tatooine and back to her Padawan days at the Temple, remembering praise from her former master. "I've always had good agility and footwork. If I lost that somehow..." The thought sent a shiver up her spine. "I wouldn't know what to do, what I would be, without that."

Cliegg didn't answer right away. He seemed to mull over what Siri had said as he peered down the vaporator pipeline. "Do all moisture farmers have legs? Most of them, sure, but not all of them. I'm one of the few who don't. I lost a leg, but I'm still a moisture farmer. I still have to make sure I provide enough clean water for my family, and I can. That's all that matters to me." Then he raised his gaze to meet hers and he folded his hands over his lap. "I don't know a lot about Jedi, or what it means to be one, but I do know that a Jedi isn't defined by having limbs or not."

Humbled by his wisdom, Siri bowed at him with newfound appreciation and gratitude plain on her face. "I think Anakin would be pleased that his mother is with a dependable man like you."

Cliegg chuckled with amusement, not mockingly. "Are you Jedi always so formal?"

"You'd be surprised with how I act when I'm undercover," Siri wryly replied. "If any situation calls for a short fuse and a tough front, I can curse up a storm in either Basic or Huttese, with equal proficiency."

This time Cliegg laughed so hard that his chair shook in midair. "Now I would like to see _that_. Without getting on your bad side, of course."

Obi-Wan emerged from the dwelling. "Siri, there you are."

She gave her fellow Jedi an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I didn't want to wake you up. Do we have to leave now?"

"Well, yes, but Shmi insists that we have breakfast before we leave."

"It would be wise of you not to refuse her offer," Cliegg said.

"Oh, I didn't. I just came out here to retrieve you two."

As relieved and grateful as she was for Shmi being found and returned alive, Siri was itching to leave this desert wasteland of a planet. The twin suns hadn't been kind to her. She made sure to stay cool and hydrated constantly so she wouldn't repeat the embarrassment of collapsing like that time in Coruscant.

After everyone cleared breakfast from their plates, Obi-Wan rose from his seat at the table. "We sincerely appreciate your hospitality, but we must get going."

"Of course," Shmi said. "Now that the storm's lifted and you've had enough to eat, you're free to head back to Mos Espa safely."

Obi-Wan, Siri, the Lars family, and Shmi exchanged farewells at the threshold.

"Safe travels to wherever you have to be next," Cliegg said.

Owen was polite enough to shake hands. "Tell Anakin we said hello."

Shmi surprised the two Jedi with a firm, earnest hug. "Take care, now."

"Thank you for everything," Siri said warmly.

"May the Force be with all of you," Obi-Wan replied.

He and Siri took the speeder bikes for one last dash to Mos Espa, then dropped them off with the Aleena who ran the rental shop. They returned to a busier scene than before, with crowds clogging up the sandy roads. It was difficult to slip through without brushing up against someone. Obi-Wan sneezed and coughed at the sand blowing into his face. He pulled part of his hood over his nose and mouth.

Siri also pulled her hood across her face and looked around in confusion. "What's going on?" Overhearing snatches of Huttese from passing Rodians and Dugs gave her a hint. "Something about a Boonta Eve Classic?"

Obi-Wan nodded with a glimmer of recognition in his eyes. "Ah yes, the big Podrace around these parts. In fact, it's the very same one Anakin had participated in to win his freedom ten years ago." He lowered his hood a bit so she saw him smile. "I remember the recording Qui-Gon had showed me. What a race. I was astounded by Anakin's talent. I had a hard time believing that he was only nine when he won. I won't be surprised if he's still the talk of the town at this time."

Siri smirked. "If Watto had still kept Shmi, I would have thrown my hat in the ring to race and win her freedom."

"Of course you would do that. And I have no doubt that you would have won." Obi-Wan could pilot a ship well enough, but he certainly didn't share Siri and Anakin's love for flying and derring-do.

The hanger holding the two Jedi starfighters was much quieter, cooler, and cleaner, so Obi-Wan could throw back his hood, breathe easier and share what had been on his mind since they returned Shmi to the Lars family. "Anakin really had been seeing his mother get tortured by the Tusken Raiders." He sat on the edge of his starfighter and drew the sleeves of his robe together. "His dreams weren't out of thin air. They were glimpses into events that actually happened. This is worth mentioning to the Council."

Also perched on her starfighter, Siri nodded in agreement. Maybe with this piece of newfound knowledge, the Council would lower their suspicions and wariness towards Anakin. She crossed her arms and shook her head. "I'm still amazed that we had reached Shmi in time. We could have been too early, or too late." She didn't want to dwell on what would have happened if that had been the case.

"The will of the Force was at work. How else could that explain the vividness and accuracy of his dreams? Visions, I should say." Obi-Wan knitted his brow. "Why would the Force open up to Anakin like that? The Code forbids attachments. Why is the Force working contrary to a tradition established among our Order for years?"

Siri understood his confusion. Like Obi-Wan, she had been brought up in the Temple and raised on Jedi philosophy and values from a very early age. Every aspect of their lives revolved around the Force. Feel it, reach out to it, listen to it. At the same time, obey the rules and teachings of the Order. The Force and the Order were supposed to go hand-in-hand. So what were Jedi supposed to do when the Force pointed them in one direction and the Order in another? This question, unspoken yet on the minds of both Jedi, made them dwell on a troubled, confused silence.

Finally, Obi-Wan sighed. "I don't think we'll be getting answers anytime soon." He opened up the hatch of his starfighter and climbed into the cockpit. "I'll report to Anakin, then we'll fly out."

Siri nodded and turned away to settle into her own ship and her own thoughts.

Anakin's hologram flickered to life, and Obi-Wan said, "I apologize if you had been holding your breath for the past few days. Siri and I made contact with your mother."

Anakin's eyes widened. "How is she?"

"Not to worry, she is fine now," Obi-Wan assured his Padawan. Not wanting to drag out the report, he briefly recounted his and Siri's visit to Tatooine and their encounter with Shmi, the Tusken Raiders, and the Lars family.

Even through the hologram, Anakin's face was a kaleidoscope of emotions throughout Obi-Wan's story, flitting from surprise to horror and finally, relief and gratitude. His voice came out thick and choked. "It means so much to me that you and Master Tachi checked on my mother and saved her. Thank you so much, Master."

Obi-Wan pursed his lips and lowered his gaze at the flood of thanks emanating from Anakin. His apprentice could be such a fountain of emotions that overwhelmed him at times. As one trained from an early age to maintain a reserved composure and guard his feelings, Obi-Wan never could be sure how to receive that uncontainable deluge. "Your mother is free, safe, and most of all, happy with a new family. Hopefully that will put your nightmares to rest."

"They stopped not long after you left for Tatooine."

"Good. Are you still on Naboo?"

"Yes, Master. It's beautiful and quiet, just as it ought to be."

That was music to Obi-Wan's ears. "And how is the Senator doing?"

"Safe and sound, never too far from me. We've visited her family and she showed me around the area." Anakin glanced somewhere offscreen, as if Senator Amidala stood not too far from him. "She keeps wondering when she can stop looking over her shoulder."

"Keep up the good work, Anakin. I'm afraid she can't relax yet. I still have that bounty hunter to track down and many questions that need answering."

Anakin nodded. "Right. I'm sorry that checking on my mother took you on a detour."

"No, I'm glad I went. I'll tell you more about her when we have time."

"I look forward to that, Master."

Once Anakin's hologram winked out, Obi-Wan patched Siri over the ship's comm. "Ready to fly out now."

* * *

The hyperspace jump and descent into Coruscant went smoothly. Obi-Wan and Siri reported their findings to the Council. Barely a day went by when Obi-Wan had to part ways with Siri and jump back into his starfighter to fly to Kamino. He wished that he could stay in the Temple to meditate and mull over the significance of the Force working through his Padawan, but more pressing matters demanded his time and attention. He was forced to put his speculations at the back of his mind while he arrived at the stormy planet.

"Dex was right," Obi-Wan muttered to himself. "I should have brought a raincoat."

He met up with the pale, tall Kaminoans soaked to the bone, then helplessly confused, as they informed him with undisguised pride of some clone army apparently ready at the Republic's disposal.

'I definitely hadn't flown all this way for this,' he thought.

Nevertheless, Obi-Wan maintained a polite demeanor and played along while the Prime Minister Lama Su took him on a tour of the cloning facility. Dex had informed Obi-Wan of the Kaminoans being "damn good cloners," so he wasn't taken completely by surprise. Still, walking down the hall surrounded by tanks upon tanks of developing fetuses took his breath away.

"Very impressive," he remarked.

Lama Su arched back his neck like a bird with its feathers preened. "We thought you might be pleased. Clones can think creatively. You will find that they are infinitely superior to droids."

As Obi-Wan's gaze swept over the babies suspended in synthetic amniotic fluid and umbilical cords, he couldn't help wondering if Siri's son might have resembled them when she was pregnant. The Kaminoans managing to replicate the process of human gestation in machines detracted from the wonders of childbearing and childbirth. At the same time, how they managed to replicate and grow so many viable humans at once was a marvel in itself. Beholding this factory of clones both awed and unsettled Obi-Wan. He had never seen another world or society pull off the kind of feat the Kaminoans did.

As they continued down the hall, Lama Su gestured to their left. "We take great pride in our combat education and training programs. This group was created about five years ago."

"You mentioned growth acceleration."

"Oh yes, it's essential. Otherwise, a mature clone would take a lifetime to grow. Now we can do it in half the time."

Sure enough, the five year-old clones sitting, watching, and learning behind rows of screens appeared to be twice their age. He remembered Siri mentioning that Sheehin would be ten this year. Looking around the age of these five year-old clones. He wondered how Siri would have reacted if she had been the Jedi to come and inspect the clones.

As soon as Lama Su mentioned that the clones propagated from the genetic template of a bounty hunter, alarm bells rang in Obi-Wan's head. Now _that_ was what he came here for.

"I would like to meet this Jango Fett," Obi-Wan said in earnest.

Blissfully unaware of his ulterior motive, Taun We said that she would be happy to arrange that meeting. As the Kaminoans led Obi-Wan to a balcony overlooking battle-ready clone troopers, his heart beat in sync to their marching in formation. He had a bad feeling about this meeting. Jango would not hand himself over quietly.

* * *

When Siri heard that Obi-Wan and Anakin had landed in hot water at Geonosis—that hot water being an arena with three vicious monsters—she didn't hesitate to take up the task of escorting clone trooper reinforcements there.

'Trouble never had much of a problem finding those two,' she thought.

Many Jedi, including Yoda and Mace Windu themselves, headed straight to Geonosis from Coruscant. But even they wouldn't be enough. That was where the clone army came in. Instead of descending onto the planet, Siri remained in its orbit among the asteroid ring. She was a tense ball of impatient nerves behind the controls. She wanted nothing more than to see for herself that Obi-Wan and Anakin would be rescued, but the Trade Federation decided to get involved, so her firepower was essential to clearing the way for the clone troopers to make their descent. A Jedi going by the callsign Shooting Star was supposed to arrive and meet up with her. Not too long after she had arrived, Siri spotted a Jedi starfighter jump in from hyperspace.

"Shooting Star to New Moon, do you copy?"

Siri broke out into a wide grin. "New Moon copies, Master Gallia."

"Siri, it's good to hear your voice again."

She hated to spoil the happy surprise in the senior Jedi's remark. "You'll change your mind about that once you hear the mission, Master. Lock onto my coordinates."

Adi's starfighter flew in closer. "Ah, these must be the military transports I was told about."

"Yes, carrying the clone army. We need to get them to the surface of Geonosis as quickly as possible."

Adi's incredulity was clear over the comm. "All this to rescue Obi-Wan?"

"No," Siri grimly replied, "to fight a war." Her scanners beeped. "We've been spotted by droid starfighters."

"I have a visual," Adi reported. "I'm coming up behind them now. Droid starfighters are easier to target when they're in formation. There must be a lander somewhere. Remain vigilant."

Hearing her former master's authoritative yet calm tone assured Siri, as it always had during her Padawan days. Following Adi's advice, Siri anticipated the predictable formations of droid starfighters and took them out with ease. She couldn't relax just yet, though, as her scanner picked up incoming signals. "More droid starfighters," she exclaimed.

"They're coming from those Trade Federation landers. We need to focus our fire on them. If we don't take them out, those droid starfighters will just keep coming."

"More ships incoming, but they don't look like Trade Federation craft," Siri said.

"Geonosian fighters. Doesn't look big enough for a main fighting force, though. I sense that we're heading into a trap."

Siri bit back a curse. "They're coming in too fast. I can't get them all."

"Have faith, Siri. The Force is our ally."

Unfortunately, the Jedi starfighters also had to deal with Trade Federation reinforcements coming up from the planet's surface. The enemy's assault climbed in multitude and strength to the point that power of the military transports was diverted from the engines to the deflector shields. Siri gave it all she got with her ship's firing and maneuvering, just so she can help Adi tear the briefest hole in enemy defenses for the military transports to slip through.

Finally, after a grueling battle, they took out all the enemy landers and frigates in sight. "Our flight path is clear," Adi declared. "Prepare for descent."

Tired but triumphant, Siri flew her starfighter alongside Adi's. "We still make a good team, Master Gallia."

"Yes. I suspect that we'll have many more missions together."

"If we survive this one." Ever the cynic, Siri couldn't help slipping in that aside. "Do we join the rescue effort now?"

"No," Adi firmly replied. "Droid transports may yet try to escape. We'll continue to cover the planet from space to ensure that doesn't happen. Keep your eyes open."

Siri stewed in silent dismay in her cockpit while scouting for more enemy ships. She could only hope that that her Jedi comrades down there were safe. And she couldn't help worrying for Obi-Wan the most. She chastised herself for that bias. She was supposed to worry for all the Jedi involved. Channeling her impatience and frustration into her starfighter's firepower, Siri helped her former master eliminate Trade Federation and Geonosian ships skulking among the asteroids.

"Nice job taking out those ships," Adi said. "I understand how much you want to be on the surface, Siri, but our part here is very important as well."

At the mixed praise and reminder, Siri shrank into her cockpit a little. She had tried very hard to keep her voice neutral over the comm. Force, were her feelings that obvious across space and between starfighters?

As if the suspense was bad enough already, Siri didn't get the opportunity to descend as military transports returned to space carrying the Jedi. The battle on Geonosis had finished, but the war was just beginning. Siri and Adi followed the transports to Coruscant, where they would have to see who survived and who didn't.

The casualties were worse than Siri had expected. Many Jedi had fallen in the arena. The Geonosians shouldn't be underestimated. After all, they were responsible for housing the largest manufacturer of droids in the galaxy. A couple of power plants and factories may have been gunned down by the clones, but Siri had a feeling that the Republic wouldn't be seeing the last of the Geonosians and their droids.

It relieved Siri greatly to hear that Obi-Wan and Anakin survived the battle of Geonosis. They hadn't come out completely unscathed, though, and they were sent straight to the Hall of Healing for recovery.

Now that Siri and Adi were back home safely and not occupied with shooting down enemy ships, they had time to sit down and catch up.

"It has been a while since we last worked together," Siri said.

"Indeed." The corners of Adi's lips tugged up with a small smile. "Contrary to what you may think, since it looks like that all I do is sit around all day, having a seat on the Council keeps me quite busy."

Siri chuckled. Given Adi's stern, imposing manner and high standards expected of an apprentice, it had taken her years to get comfortable around her master and realize that she can be capable of having a sense of humor, too.

"You seem much more relaxed since we returned to Coruscant," Adi went on. "You sounded quite frazzled on Geonosis."

"Am I that easy to read, Master?" Siri sighed and her skin prickled with embarrassment. "I'm still the same impatient, impulsive Padawan, I guess. Some things never change."

"You forget your sense of unwavering commitment. That hasn't changed either. Tempted as you may have been to dive down to the surface and join the forces on foot, you stuck to the mission and saw it through with me. Your discipline is something I've always admired about you, Siri. I recognized it on the first day of your apprenticeship. I don't regret that I had chosen you to be my Padawan."

Siri tried hard to keep a straight face, but inside she glowed under the heap of praise from her former master.

"You have always been tough, and even more so after you brought in Sheehin. Honestly, even with the Jedi Code out of the picture, you never struck me as the motherly type. You turned my assumption on its head and proved to me by doing what was best for your son: to have him raised here as any other child in the Temple."

Among the Jedi Council, Adi had been the most vocal advocate of letting Sheehin be cared for and raised in the Temple. It was with sympathy and reluctance that she joined the motion of prohibiting Siri and Sheehin from seeing each other. Siri would never forget that, and for that she would always have fondness and gratitude for her former master.

Siri ran fingers through her blonde hair, sweeping her fringe back before it fell back into place, and sighed. "Well, I suppose it gets even tougher from here, with a war looming over our heads."

Adi's blue eyes darkened. "Yes, it'll be tough on all of us. We must be ready for whatever lies in store for us next."

Siri's left hand tightened over her utility belt, right where her lightsaber was hooked—a habit of hers when she tensed.

* * *

Though the gashes to his left arm and leg had been closed over and treated for infection, they still twinged with soreness as Obi-Wan made any movement. He recovered quickly from his minor scrapes against Count Dooku, and went to check on Anakin as soon as Luminara discharged him. Exposure to Sith lightning and the loss of an arm would have put most Jedi out of commission, but then again, Anakin was not like most Jedi. Obi-Wan knew from past experience that there was nothing his stubborn, determined apprentice could fail to bounce back from.

Already Anakin laid out plans to build a cybernetic replacement for his lost right arm. A good way to keep him occupied while he recovered.

Anakin looked up from his hologram of cybernetic schematics as Obi-Wan strode into his room. "Master. Good to see you up and about again."

"Yes, well, my injuries are nothing compared to yours." Obi-Wan used the Force to pull up a chair by Anakin's bedside. "I wanted to see how you're doing, how you're holding up."

Anakin laid back in the bed and stared up at the lights overhead. "It's true, I'm going to need physical therapy, but not for too long. We're at war with the Separatists now. The Order's going to want as many capable, able-bodied Jedi as possible." He raised his remaining hand and clenched it into a fist. "I want to be one of them. I'll build my new arm and go fight."

"None of this comes as any surprise to me, you know," Obi-Wan said wryly. "Your high spirits and enthusiasm is to be commended considering the injuries you sustained, but you need to—"

"Slow down, I know. What you were going to say isn't any surprise to me, either."

"You know me so well." Obi-Wan smiled at his Padawan. Years of camaraderie brought them close enough that they can finish each other's sentences and read each other's thoughts with a single look. Obi-Wan reached for his utility belt. "I didn't just come to check up on you. I came to give you this."

* * *

A week after the Jedi returned from the battle of Geonosis, Siri caught Obi-Wan making his way to his quarters. Or so she had thought at first.

"Actually, I was looking for you," he said. "I thought you would be in _your_ quarters."

The two remained standing in the middle of halls that branched away to hold rows of other Jedis' rooms.

She resisted the urge to hug him. "I haven't gotten the chance to see you since you flew to Kamino. Did you ever get your bounty hunter?"

"I followed him all the way to Geonosis, stumbled upon a Separatist meeting, then got myself caught. That's how the whole mess started. Actually, it was Master Windu who took him out in the end."

"In any case, I'm so glad that you're all right."

Obi-Wan reached out with one hand to briefly touch her shoulder. "I heard about you and Master Gallia's part in the battle. Thank you for getting those clone troopers into Geonosis."

"It's nothing." She thought it best to leave out the tumult of her feelings during that space battle. "So, a few days ago, I tried to visit you in the Hall of Healing, but I saw that you were occupied with talking to Anakin. I couldn't help noticing that you gave him something, but I didn't want to pry, so I left you two alone and didn't stick around to get a good look. What did you give him?"

"On the day that you and I left the moisture farm, when you were talking to Cliegg by the vaporators, I had Shmi say whatever words she had for Anakin onto a recording device. I figured that him hearing her voice is preferable to me simply passing on her message secondhand."

Siri blinked several times in surprise. "Wow. Obi-Wan, I didn't know you were capable of doing such a thing. You actually encouraged keeping a possession?"

Humor danced in his eyes. "Come, now, Siri, you're hardly in a position to pontificate. I know you still keep that warming crystal around."

Her ears grew hot. "What are you going to do now? Confiscate it from me and report to the Council?"

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes at her joke. "I am well past the age for tattling, Siri." Then he resumed a serious tone. "I kept quiet about it because I know how much that crystal gives you peace and comfort. Our visit to Tatooine got me thinking: perhaps it'll do Anakin some good if I could give him something like your crystal. The Code warns against attachments and possessions, but..." His eyes darted left and right before he leaned toward Siri and said in a soft, confidential voice, "But maybe, just maybe, the Force is trying to tell us otherwise. That not _all_ attachments and possessions twist and corrupt us. Instead, they can give us hope and strength. Like Shmi enduring torture by thinking of Anakin. Like Anakin hearing her voice through a recorder." He knitted his brow and pressed a palm to his temple. "Siri, that visit to Tatooine put me into a real spin. I think I need to go lie down."

She reached out to steady him. "You're not alone in your speculations," she admitted. "I think you did the right thing giving Anakin something to remember his mother by. It's not like we're forbidden from keeping any possessions at all. We have our lightsabers, don't we? 'These weapons are our lives,' you would say."

"Still do."

Siri smirked at his quip. "Of course it's not good to be greedy, materialistic, and overindulgent, but I don't see the harm in keeping a few things that are important and valuable to us. Anakin must have thought that recorder is the greatest gift you've ever given him."

"It's the only gift I've given, and I wanted to make it count."

"It'll mean the galaxy to him."

"He'll get to keep it if we keep this a secret between us."

"Won't be a problem." Siri met his gaze, his solemn and worn yet handsome face, and with a bittersweet pang in her chest, she said softly, "We've kept secrets before."

* * *

Siri found Anakin in his quarters, hard at work with building the cybernetic replacement for his right forearm. The dining table had turned into his work bench as blueprints, tools, and mechanical parts were strewn all over the tabletop. He straightened up from what must have been hours of bending over to focus on his progress, pulled up his goggles, and smiled at her.

"Long time no see, Master Tachi. I didn't get the chance to thank you for saving my mother. I owe you."

"You don't owe me anything, Anakin. You've been through enough." She took a seat across from him, her gaze settling on where flesh met machine at the crook of his right arm. "You're taking all this very well."

He set down a small wrench he had been holding and the smile faded from his lips. "I have to be honest: it's not easy keeping my head up. Sometimes I'm angry and ashamed that I had lost against Count Dooku, that I had failed to protect my master. Sometimes I think that my goal to completely recover in half the time expected by healers may be silly and unrealistic."

"I don't know how much Obi-Wan had told you about our visit to Tatooine, but Cliegg Lars, your stepfather, lost half of his leg trying to rescue your mother from the Tusken Raiders."

Anakin's eyes widened, then he stared down wistfully at the parts on the table. "Did he, now? My mother married a good man. I wish I could have met him."

"He told me something that I won't forget in a hurry. He said that he's still a moisture farmer, and losing a leg doesn't take that away from him. In your case, Anakin, losing an arm won't make you any less of a Jedi. Obi-Wan once told me that when you put your mind into something, you can do anything. He has always admired that about you."

Clearly that pleased Anakin as the shadow over his face seemed to lift. "Thanks, Master Tachi. You came in at the right time. I was starting to feel down." He resumed delicately handling some wires. "What do you think of my mother?"

"Humble, resilient, and insistingly hospitable. I respect her very much. I feel honored to have met her."

"Did you two ever get to talk?"

"Oh yes. We have a lot in common, actually. She's a mother who hasn't seen her child in a long time, and so am I."

"Good point. Did you tell her about Sheehin?"

Siri nodded. "She had been nothing but sympathetic and understanding." She wasn't sure if she should tell Anakin about the advice Shmi had offered. Then, thinking of both her son and the war made her uneasy. "Master Gallia said that the war will be tough on all of us. Will it really affect the entire Jedi Order, down to even the younglings? The Republic wants to deploy as many of us as possible into military service."

"Maybe I'll be able to take my Trials sooner than expected. All the more reason to work even harder to get back into shape, then." Anakin met her eyes, and the excitement died in his voice as he looked away meekly. "Sorry, you're worried about Sheehin. I don't think he'll get involved in anything yet. Most Knights will probably be too busy with military missions to pick Padawans."

"I hope you're right, Anakin." She had heard from Obi-Wan that deployed Jedi would assume command of their own clone troopers. Even experienced Padawans would be granted authority. She couldn't imagine her son being in that position within a few years. She once thought that at eleven years old, she was itching to be chosen as a Padawan. Now she thought that eleven was much too soon to become one. Sheehin was only ten years old. Then again, so were the clone troopers bred for battle. Obi-Wan had told Siri about his trip to Kamino, his inspection of how the clones were grown and altered to perfection, like products to sell rather than human beings. He had passed on his unsettled misgivings to her.

In any way it could be spun, war was never a good thing. Especially when an army of clones was involved.

* * *

Talk of the impending war reached even the younglings, who spent all their spare time animatedly discussing the rumors among themselves. The Hawkbat Clan was no exception. While they waited for Force-guided lightsaber class with Master Yoda, they filled the circular chamber with chatter.

"I heard that the Jedi will be in charge of the clones. Like be their generals and commanders."

"Maybe the war will push things along. Masters might want to take in more Padawans, and Padawans will be pushed to complete the Trials sooner."

"I better work even harder, then. I want to get in on the action sooner than later."

"Do you think Coruscant will be under attack?"

"I hope not."

"I kind of want to see some excitement around here. I want to see real starfighters and real battle droids."

Wearing a training helmet like the rest but standing off to the side, away from the huddle of gossiping younglings, and not belonging to any particular group of friends, a blonde-haired, blue-eyed boy turned his practice lightsaber in his hands over and over. The motion mirrored how his gut got tied into more and more knots. He looked out one of the windows, imagining those smooth lines of air traffic being hammered and obliterated by blaster fire, and he shuddered.

"Younglings, settle down," a gravelly voice called. "Worried and excited about the future, you may be, but focus on the present, we will."

Sheehin tore his gaze away from the window and joined his fellow younglings as they gathered around Yoda. He didn't have a problem with standing in the back row. He was tall for his age and didn't like having eyes on his back, anyway. Sometimes Master Yoda asked questions and called on younglings, especially at the front, to answer. His clan didn't make fun of him anymore, but Sheehin still hated how he stuttered.

A Besalisk youngling at the front raised one of her four hands. "Master Yoda, is it true that you'll be sent to fight soon? Will you have to stop training us?"

Murmurs rippled among the younglings.

"Many questions, you must have," the Grand Master replied patiently. "Many rumors, you have heard. Not your concern, the answers are. Continue to train safely here, you will."

It was clear that the Hawkbat Clan wasn't going to get anything else out of the enigmatic master. Perhaps even he didn't have all the answers for certain.

Sheehin knew that this war would only worsen his worry and anxiety. He had lost enough sleep wondering about the occasional dreams of a mysterious, beautiful woman cradling him and singing to him, as if he was still a baby despite the past ten years. He hadn't told anyone about the dreams, not even Master Yoda. No one else brought up the families and homeworlds they were born into. He shouldn't, either. The Jedi were his family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who don't know, much of the Geonosis space battle scene is based on a similar mission from the Jedi Starfighter game. The player controls Adi Gallia, and interestingly enough, Siri has a voice and support role in the game.
> 
> Up next: Entering TCW territory! I've never seen TCW when it was airing, only clips here and there on Youtube. Thank God for the Clone Wars Episode Guide I have handy. Also, now that Disney Plus has launched, I'm going to watch the show through properly. That means I can work on incorporating Siri and Sheehin into TCW events. Won't be easy!


	8. Calm Before The Storm

Anakin opened the door to his quarters before Obi-Wan even lifted his hand to knock. "Master, I sensed you were coming. You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, if you don't mind. Are you busy?"

Anakin shook his head and stepped aside. Obi-Wan noticed the new cybernetic arm that gleamed and made the faintest whir when Anakin lifted it in a gesture to welcome him.

"How's the arm coming along? You're adjusting to it well?"

Anakin smiled. "The arm works just fine, Master, after a few tweaks. Feels a lot like my old one, like I never lost it."

They sat down across from each other at the dining table.

Obi-Wan cleared his throat. He knew he was about to dampen his Padawan's good mood. "I need to talk to you about what had happened during the battle of Geonosis. When Senator Amidala fell out of the gunship."

"Oh." Anakin visibly tensed.

"You're not in trouble," Obi-Wan assured him. "I didn't come here to lecture you." He propped his elbows on the table and scratched at his beard. "I think it's time that I tell you something I've kept quiet about for years. Something that, hopefully, will remind you that you're not alone in your struggle with these emotions you must be feeling."

Anakin leaned forward, confused and curious, while Obi-Wan had to pause and take a deep breath before going on. "Many years ago, when I had been a Padawan, I had a rival. After many missions together, we became friends. Then we became...well, it could have been something more than that, if we allowed ourselves to let it go that way. We were dangerously close to crossing the line."

Anakin's eyes grew wide. "You had a lover? You're talking about Master Tachi, aren't you?"

Obi-Wan pulled back, startled. "How did you-? I hadn't said-"

"It _is_ Master Tachi." Anakin sat back in bug-eyed awe. "_Wizard_."

Ten years passed and his Padawan still used that word? "Well, I certainly didn't keep you guessing," Obi-Wan said wryly.

"Only because she once told me a similar story about you. Starting out as rivals, becoming friends...minus coming close to crossing the line, though. She left that out. When you're telling the story now, I knew that you had to be referring to Master Tachi. I used to tease you about her, Master, only because I liked ruffling your feathers..." Anakin crossed his arms and failed to suppress a grin. "But to think that you actually got romantically involved with her..."

"Yes," Obi-Wan said with a sigh, "it's true."

"How far did you go? Did you kiss?"

Anakin's boyish, gleeful curiosity made Obi-Wan shift in his seat and want to hide under his steepled hands. "We...we did," he admitted. Not just once. Many times. Quietly and secretly, beyond the sight and notice of their Masters. He wasn't one to care about catching up with slang, but he believed that the younger generation called it "making out." The memory of making Siri shudder from his lips on her neck, and the taste of her mouth when he deepened a kiss, made Obi-Wan's face as hot as the surface of Mustafar.

Anakin whistled. "Master got in on some action..."

"Focus, my young Padawan." Obi-Wan's strict, firm tone made Anakin shrink in his seat. "That was many years ago, when she and I were around your age. Infatuated and foolhardy teenagers. Must be hard for you to imagine, I bet. Anyway, the point of me bringing this up is that after we acknowledged our love for each other, and acted on it for a bit, we promised to not speak of it again."

Anakin's face fell in dismay. "What?"

"We did this so we could remain in the Jedi Order, because doing otherwise would go against the Code."

Anakin shook his head in exasperation. "I know the reason why, Master, but I just think that's so unfair. You still love her, don't you?"

"We remain very good friends—"

"But do you _love_ her?" Anakin pressed.

"Yes, I do." Obi-Wan didn't mean to raise his voice in his reply, or admit more vulnerability than he had meant to. He withdrew his hands into the wide sleeves of his robes, trying to recover from that momentary lapse of control. "I haven't asked her how she felt, because we vowed not to talk about that. Whether she still has feelings for me or not is irrelevant. What I'm trying to tell you is that these emotions are real, and it's natural to feel them, but as a Jedi, you must keep them in check."

"So what you're trying to say is that I should follow your example. That Padme and I should be like you and Master Tachi."

Obi-Wan strived to sound reasonable. "I'm not saying that you have to be exactly like me. That's an unrealistic request to make of you. My relationship with Siri doesn't follow the exact same course as yours with the senator. But they're not too different. Anakin, I'm not going to pretend I'm unaware of what's going on between you and the senator."

Anakin's cybernetic hand tightened over his real one. "Does anyone else know? Anyone in the Council?"

"Just me, as far as I know. If Master Yoda or Windu got any hint or word of it, swift disciplinary action would have been taken already."

"Yes, especially Master Windu," Anakin agreed with a grimace.

Obi-Wan was well aware that his Padawan had a particularly rocky relationship with the stern, no-nonsense master of Vaapad. "Anakin, I want you to stay in the Order, and I'd hate to see you get expelled from it. I won't tell anyone else about you and the senator."

Anakin seemed to melt in his seat in visible relief. "Thank you, Master."

Obi-Wan, however, wasn't finished. "I can't completely keep you out of trouble. You have to do your part. I'm advising you not only as your mentor, but as your friend. I speak out of concern for you, and caution you to draw the line now before you get in too deep. That will save you and Senator Amidala from all the secrecy and deception. Trust me."

Anakin fixed his gaze on the tabletop and wouldn't look up to meet Obi-Wan's eyes.

Obi-Wan had nothing but understanding and sympathy for his apprentice. He and Siri had been in that position before. "I know this isn't what you want to hear. I'm sorry, Anakin."

"Part of me wants to shout and fight you. But another part of me knows that you're right." Anakin sounded torn and defeated.

"We can't have everything we want. That's just life. Siri and I understand this. We had to choose the Jedi Order over each other."

"Do you regret that, Master?"

"No, I don't." Obi-Wan didn't hesitate in his reply. He was, above all, a dedicated servant to the Republic. So was Siri. Neither were willing to give up that sacred duty.

Anakin raised his gaze. "May I at least visit Padme one last time? So I can share what you've told me?"

Obi-Wan nodded. "That would be wise. That way you two are on the same page about this." He rose to his feet and made for the door. "That's all I wanted to come here for. I'll leave you alone now."

Anakin's reply stopped Obi-Wan at the threshold. "Thank you, Master, for telling me how you feel about Master Tachi. I'm sorry, too."

Kinship over their shared pain and loss connected their held gazes. Then Obi-Wan broke the bridge when he turned and left Anakin's quarters.

* * *

Anakin flew Artoo and his Jedi starfighter into Naboo and met up with Padme by the lake, where they had shared their first kiss. The memory of it, and the idyllic beauty of the place, made his heart ache. The radiant smile on her lips, and her arms around his shoulders, almost made him keep his mouth shut. He was tempted to not bring up Obi-Wan's visit at all. But he took her hands into his, tried hard not to drown in the beauty of her face, and mustered the courage to speak.

"Padme, I have something important to tell you."

"What is it, Ani?"

"I know I had said that the next time I see you is to plan our wedding..." Anakin swallowed hard before forcing himself to go on, "But we have to call it off. We have to draw the line here." He told her about Obi-Wan's advice, and his confession.

Padme listened patiently and attentively without interrupting, and when Anakin stopped, she diverted her gaze to the lake. "Obi-Wan's right," she murmured. "We weren't thinking things through." She shook her head. "I love you, Ani, but I also don't want to get you in trouble with the Jedi by marrying you. We can't keep seeing each other like this."

It broke his heart to hear that, but he couldn't muster the words to argue. "Even if my master had no idea about us, I would feel so bad about going behind his back. Especially after he gave me this." Anakin showed Padme the recording device that held the voice of his mother. He played it for her, hearing yet again how much his mother loved him, missed him, and was proud of him for becoming the Jedi she believed he was always meant to be. His mother's voice moved him to tears every time.

Padme reached up to dry his face with her sleeve. "That's so thoughtful of him to give you that," she murmured.

"I love you too, Padme, believe me, but I also don't want to betray and disobey Obi-Wan. I care so much about you both. And my mother...she has so much faith in me...I can't let her down by getting kicked out of the Order. I wish everything could work out for all of us." Anakin remembered the words his master had left him with. "But we can't have everything we want."

Padme nodded in reluctant agreement. Then she said wistfully, "I would like to meet Siri someday. She must be an extraordinary woman if she managed to capture Obi-Wan's heart."

Anakin thought of Siri's commitment to the Order, a commitment so strong and enduring that, for many years, she was willing to set aside her feelings for Obi-Wan and refrain from seeing her son to keep him in the Temple. "You're not wrong. She is _amazing_."

Padme sighed. "Well, until our paths cross again by chance, this is good-bye for now."

"This could be good-bye for a long time," he said. With the war looming over their heads, he would be sent away on the Council's whim to swing aloft his lightsaber and lead clone troopers, while Padme would have to fight her own battles in the Senate court. Anakin pulled her into a tight hug, wishing that this moment could stretch on to the width of the galaxy. "Good-bye, Padme. This doesn't mean I'll stop loving you. Don't forget that."

Her face was almost enveloped in the embrace of his wide, dark sleeves. The fabric caught her tears. "I won't forget. I won't stop, either."

* * *

All sorts of change loomed over the horizon. Obi-Wan recently cropped his hair shorter, while Siri had been growing hers longer. Long enough for her to tie it into a braid hanging down her shoulder. She kept the undercut as a reminder of the earlier, more rebellious days.

Obi-Wan complimented the change when he ran into her as she left the Council chamber. "Longer hair suits you," he said.

"Thanks. And shorter hair suits _you_." Her blue eyes twinkled with amusement. Now with that new look she appreciated, she felt safe about being honest. "I wasn't the biggest fan of your hair before the war broke out. You were starting to look like a Wookiee."

Surprise, amusement, and a hurt look all battled for dominance in his reaction. "I was trying to grow it long like Qui-Gon."

"I know. But I like this better." She tipped her chin at him as she said that, while resisting the urge to reach out and brush her fingers down the back of his shorter hair. "Now you're you. Uniquely Obi-Wan."

He grinned. "Duly noted. I'll keep it around for a while, then." Curious for more of Siri's opinion, he stroked his beard. "What do you think of this?"

She felt her cheeks warm. "Makes you look wise, serious, and—um, Master-y." And very handsome. But she left that unsaid, of course. "Wouldn't want you to lose it, but maybe that's just me."

"No, I care about what you think, Siri. I'm glad the beard's a keeper for you. I like it, too." He liked it mostly because he got into the habit of stroking it when he had to think. So far it has never let him down with bringing him to a solution or a revelation.

"So, the other day, I introduced Reeft to Dex's Diner." Siri shook her head. "Obi-Wan, you weren't kidding about his appetite. That Dresselian can put away five nerfburgers in one sitting. I think Dex found his new favorite customer."

That made Obi-Wan laugh. He could have easily been the one to show his Dresselian friend, but Siri taking him out helped break the ice between her and his circle of Jedi friends.

They ran out of things to talk about as they walked together down the long Temple hall. Siri broke the awkward silence with a sigh. "Sorry, I was just trying to talk about anything but the war."

"Same here."

Siri found it futile to skirt around the biggest piece of news she had just received. "The Council included me in their list of eligible Jedi Generals. How about you?"

Obi-Wan nodded. "I'm trying to appreciate these last few days of familiarity and comfort here before we're sent to Kamino."

Jedi may be no strangers to combat, but through the long stretch of peace in the Republic up until recently, many have never fought in an all-out war. None of the Jedi were trained in military strategy, and the Order was never constructed by a military structure. The clones may be bred and ready for battle, but Jedi had to be trained to effectively lead and command them. That was why some Jedi would go to Kamino to get better acquainted with the clones and make use of the combat simulation facilities. Siri was actually excited about the new experience. Anything to make her a more competent fighter was a chance she'd gladly take. Obi-Wan looked less than thrilled about that, of course, but she didn't doubt that with his wisdom and prudence, he would shape up to make a fine Jedi General.

Siri touched his elbow. "Hey, why don't we go out for a drink? For old time's sake?"

He smiled at her. "I'm up for a drink or two. I certainly don't remember seeing any bars in Kamino."

They left the Temple and wandered into Coruscant's lively night scene on foot. They settled for a bar called Jakku Oasis. Sidling up to the counter, they ordered glowing blue shots that set their sinuses and throats on fire.

"How do you like that Volveng Polar Ice?" Siri asked.

Obi-Wan blew out a gusty breath after he downed his shot. "Whew, strong stuff," he admitted. "Cold and fresh, though. I think I'll have one more."

"Me too." Siri waved down the bartender, and at that same moment a large, flushed man in grubby spacer's clothes sat down next to her.

"Nice lightsaber, hun," he drawled. Though he said that, clearly his gaze ate up the curve of her hips instead of the lightsaber hooked to her belt. "I have a lightsaber, too." He splayed his legs over the seat. An unflattering manspread. "Wanna see it?"

Siri ignored him by turning to Obi-Wan, but the spacer prodded her in the back.

"Hey, I'm talking to ya."

She kept trying to ignore him. "So, Obi-Wan, I heard that Anakin—"

A tug at the end of her braid cut her off and made her snap.

Siri reached out with the Force, and the spacer's collar jerked up and across to meet her hand. Clenching his collar in her fist, she glared straight into his bulging eyes. "You want my undivided attention? Fine. Touch me again and the only way you'll be eating is through a straw."

She pushed him away, and with a squeal completely unbecoming of a man his size, he scooted off to the other end of the counter. Siri tossed her braid over with a flip of her hand and an angry huff. "This is what I get for forgetting to keep it down my shoulder."

Obi-Wan had watched the entire interaction with a frown. "A little excessive show of force, isn't it, Siri?" Then he quickly added, "No pun intended."

Siri swigged down her second shot just after the bartender set it on the counter. "Obi-Wan, you have no idea of how many sleazy, disgusting guys I've had to fend off when I went undercover. Asking nicely and batting your eyes isn't going to work."

"If someone's bothering me, especially if they're trying to sell me something like deathsticks, I just wave at them and tell them to go home and rethink their life. It works, Siri. I speak from personal experience."

Siri put down her shot glass harder than she meant to. "_Undercover_, Obi-Wan. Did you not hear me the first time? Even if I wanted to wave away the assholes, I couldn't do that in front of Krayn and his thugs, or that would have compromised my entire mission."

Her fellow Jedi Knight looked at her warily. "You're not getting drunk, are you?"

She scoffed. "Drunk? Not anytime soon. I can drink you under the table, Obi-Wan. It's just that old habits die hard. When I get pushed, I have to shove." She tried to calm down and sound more civilized. "Anyway, before I was so rudely interrupted, what I meant to say is that I heard Anakin will be a Knight."

Obi-Wan welcomed the change in subject as he visibly relaxed. "Yes, he's thrilled that it's finally happening."

"Congratulations for surviving your first Padawan, and congratulations to Anakin for passing his Trials." She and Obi-Wan clinked their empty shot glasses. "You have any plans to train another one?"

He laughed. "After Anakin? No thank you. Not anytime soon, at least. He is like a brother to me, but Force, Siri, he put me through a long, wild ride."

"He sure did. In any case, I'm happy for both of you." Siri couldn't help thinking that had Ferus still been in the Order, he would have been a Knight for a few years by now. She wondered what he could be doing instead. The aching wonder prompted her to order yet another round of Polar Ice.

She shouldn't have ordered a third one. She herself felt fine, not buzzed yet, but Obi-Wan became glass-eyed, quiet, and hunched over his seat. She leaned in to ask if he was okay.

He didn't seem to hear her. Instead, he looked up at her—or rather, past her—and replied with soft yet outright frankness, "Siri, has anyone ever told you how strong, smart, and ridiculously, astronomically attractive you are?"

She leaned back and chuckled nervously. "You just did."

Again, he didn't seem to register what she said. Only when the strobe lights overhead changed color, she noticed how flushed his cheeks were. He took her hand into his, slowly and gently. "After all these years, I am still hopelessly, deeply in love with you. I want to run away with you and marry you. We should have children together. We can give Sheehin siblings."

Blazing hotness engulfed Siri from the tips of her ears down to her neck. He didn't slur his words, and to anyone else who didn't know him well, he sounded clear, measured, and rational. But to Siri, everything that just came out of his mouth since that third shot was completely unlike him. "Obi-Wan, you're drunk. You don't know what you're saying. We're Jedi, remember? We have to go to Kamino soon." She pulled the hood over his head to cover his face. She had to get a firm grip over his tunic to support him and keep him steady as she shepherded him out of the bar. She hoped that the cool air and dwindling noise would clear his head.

"Kamino..." he murmured. "I don't want to go. I can't be a General. None of us can. We shouldn't. We are peacekeepers, not soldiers. Getting involved in this war is a bad idea. It goes against what the Jedi stand for." He fell quiet and said nothing afterwards.

'Well, that got real serious real fast,' Siri thought. She figured that she shouldn't take Obi-Wan to the Temple yet. Not in this condition. In a small nearby lot, she found an unused speeder where she could deposit Obi-Wan into a seat. She paid the parking meter but didn't pull the speeder out of its spot. Instead she sat in the seat next to Obi-Wan, with the engine off, leaning back to stare at the air traffic streaming above them. After a while she looked across at him. He was sound asleep. Because one drink too many made him dead to the world, and he wouldn't know, Siri reached over to brush stray locks of hair from his forehead. Then she pulled her hand away, blushing.

Had it been the alcohol talking? Or did the high, sturdy wall Obi-Wan always put up around his thoughts and feelings crumble before her? She was inclined to think the latter. Obi-Wan never would have voiced his thoughts on deployment, his real thoughts on it. He had never been one to question the Council's decisions or orders given to him. Obi-Wan, especially past his adolescent stage, had always been obedient, disciplined, the example of self-control. Or so she had thought.

Hearing him admit his love shook Siri to the core. Until now, she always assumed that he had moved on and let the flame between them die down. No, he had kept that flame alive for years, and knowing that now made Siri feel buoyed and lightheaded, as if gravity no longer had any effect on her...

She grit her teeth and shook her head. She had chosen the Code over her feelings, and she shouldn't stray from her decision. There shouldn't be anything more than friendship between her and Obi-Wan. Like a good friend, she waited in the speeder with patience, waiting for him to come to his senses before they returned to the Temple.

* * *

Obi-Wan woke up feeling like a horde of angry Wookiees used his head as a war drum to pound on. He stirred with a loud groan and his vision swam. After blinking many times, his sight cleared and he realized that he wasn't in Jakku Oasis anymore.

"Obi-Wan? Can you hear me? How do you feel?"

He recognized and heard Siri's voice before he could find her face. "I've had better days." He shut his eyes as he felt a headache wash over the top of his skull.

"You feel like you're going to throw up? We're in a parked speeder, so you can just lean over the side."

"No, not sick," he mumbled. "Just feel like my head is going to split open, that's all." Obi-Wan took a few minutes to breathe in deeply and collect himself. The meditation exercise he practiced had a calming, clarifying effect on him, and he realized that he was indeed sitting in a speeder with Siri. His heart sank. "I got drunk, didn't I? I must have said or done something embarrassing, I just know it."

His hunch was right as Siri visibly struggled to come up with an answer.

"Just tell me the truth. I need to be held accountable."

"Hold _you_ accountable? Obi-Wan, it's my fault for inviting you and getting us too many shots for you to handle. I'm the one who should be sorry."

"Don't blame yourself. I took up your invitation and wanted to have fun and a few drinks with you." He sighed. "Look, I know that I can unravel too much, because not long after we were knighted, Quinlan once took me out for drinks after a mission we finished together. I didn't know what I was saying once I got tipsy, but according to Quinlan, I had called him 'crazier than a Tusken Raider high on cactus juice and a bantha lying on its back running on air.' It took him a week to come around and speak to me again. So what did I do this time? Tell me, Siri."

She twirled the loose ends of her hair between her fingers and looked down at her braid. "Um, you might have declared your love for me, wanted me to marry you and have your children, and criticized Jedi involvement with the war."

Obi-Wan gawked at her, then turned away from her and pressed both hands over his face. "Stars and galaxies above," he said between his fingers. "I said all that?"

"How much of it is true?"

"All of it." He wanted to shrivel up into the size of Master Yoda and wink out of existence. "I probably wouldn't have worded it like that..."

"I know. You would never say something you find inappropriate or out of turn. When you're sober, at least."

There was one part he still couldn't quite believe. "I...I told you that I wanted to have children with you?"

She nodded. "And give Sheehin siblings."

Obi-Wan groaned. "Oh, Force." He wanted to become one with it right here and now. "I won't be surprised in the least if you now put me at the same level as that spacer who harassed you. I completely understand if you never want to speak with me again—"

"Obi-Wan, look at me."

He forced himself to meet Siri's eyes. Even in the night gloom, the blue in her eyes was bright and clear, and he found no trace of anger on her face.

"You spoke from the heart. You remind me that you have one. That you have feelings, and you yearn for something you know you can't have, and you're doubting yourself and feeling uneasy when it seems like you have everything together. That makes you honest and human." She smiled at him. "Uniquely Obi-Wan."

He supposed she said that to assure him that he hadn't been a creep or a weirdo, but shame continued to hang over his head. "We promised that we wouldn't bring up our feelings again. I broke our promise. I'm so sorry."

"I know you didn't mean to. I told Anakin that what I admire most about you is that you never break promises you make. You saw to it that you trained Anakin up until Knighthood. On any other day but this one, you never brought up what had happened between us."

Obi-Wan shook his head. "You think too highly of me. I'm not as perfect as you think."

"I know. I told Anakin about that, too."

"What else have you told him?"

"Only good things and fond memories." She reached out to rest a hand on his shoulder. "About the war, taking up command...you won't be alone. You've got me and many other Jedi taking up arms with you. And you'll make a great Jedi General. You'll see. You're selling yourself short."

He smiled at her. "Thanks, Siri. I can count on you to pick me back up when I'm in a rut."

She held up one finger. "Tonight counts as an exception. You didn't break our promise. I'll let you off the hook this time. But, if I may say just one thing about, you know, how you feel about me..." Siri stifled a laugh with a hand over her mouth. "How you said it back at the bar was adorable, and kind of funny."

His cheeks warmed. "I'm glad I could amuse you."

"Are you ready to head back?"

The headache that had assaulted Obi-Wan went away so he could nod without wincing. "I think so. I've kept us away long enough."

They climbed out of the speeder and walked back to the Temple together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: Jedi assimilate into their new roles at the training facilities of Kamino. When Force-sensitive children are kidnapped by the bounty hunter Cad Bane, Siri assists Anakin and his new Padawan Ahsoka with retrieving them.


	9. Concerning Children

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TCW is a big show with so many things happening, so I hand-picked episodes that I thought would be good for exploring Obi-Wan and Siri's relationship, as well as look for opportunities to include Siri's son.
> 
> A glimpse of what I have planned and what to expect: This fic will span 33 chapters total, plus an epilogue. TCW takes up 17, and post-TCW takes up 9. Obi-Wan and Siri are gonna smash. Eventually. This ship burns slowly. But that's the big picture idea.

All forty Jedi bound for Kamino boarded a Jedi cruiser and spent the trip discussing among themselves their thoughts on their new roles. As the newest Knight onboard, Anakin received a round of congratulations and best wishes from the others. He made it no secret that he looked forward to managing the clones being his first responsibility as a Knight. Obi-Wan would have to get used to his former Padawan's thicker, longer hair and lack of braid. As for himself, because he had been the only Jedi to recently visit Kamino and interact with its inhabitants, Obi-Wan became the center of attention as many asked him about what to expect on that world.

There seemed to be a consensual thought that of all the Jedi heading to Kamino, Shaak Ti had the biggest responsibility placed on her shoulders. The Council had decided that she would be the one stationed in Kamino to oversee clone trooper development and training. Every time Obi-Wan caught sight of her, she would stand by a window staring serenely off into the swath of stars.

"The Council chose well," he remarked as he joined her by the window. "You are discerning yet compassionate. The ideal candidate for the job."

"Your kind words are welcome, Obi-Wan." The Togruta Jedi slid her dark gaze away from the starscape to aim a small smile at him. "I'm as uncertain and nervous as the rest of you, however. You would be wrong to assume that I'm completely immune to such feelings."

"You hide it well," he said with surprise. Then he assured her, "I think you will do a fine job. You will be a much needed presence on Kamino. From my discussion with the cloners, I know that they aren't the warmest beings around. They value peak function and efficiency above all else, and don't care much for anything that fails to meet their high standards."

Shaak Ti nodded. "So I've heard. In fact, the Council mentioned your report in their decision to send me as a sort of...countermeasure."

"Did they?" He touched his knuckles to his chin sheepishly. "I suppose you can blame me for your new position."

She chuckled. "I don't blame you for anything, Obi-Wan. I was given an important task, and I'll see to doing it the best I can."

Opinion of the events awaiting the prospective Jedi Generals were as diverse as the species populating the cruiser.

Pong Krell made it clear that he wasn't keen on working with clones. "I hope it's true that they are unconditionally obedient," the Besalisk Jedi growled. "I won't stand for insubordination."

Shy and sweet Bant, who Obi-Wan was surprised to find among those sent for military training, was apprehensive. "These are human lives we'll be responsible for. We must handle them with care."

He wasn't, however, surprised that Quinlan was nowhere to be found on the cruiser to Kamino. Obi-Wan knew that Quinlan had his heart in the right place, but he was infamous among his peers for doing things his own way, not quite following the rules. Not the most ideal person to be trusted with subordinates and important military maneuvers. Hence why the rule-bound Pong Krell, despite not being the most pleasant Jedi to grace the Order's ranks, was sent to Kamino.

Garen was of a simpler mind. "I hope we don't have to address them by their numbers all the time. I wouldn't be able to remember them!"

"I for one look forward to fighting alongside the clones once more," Plo Koon said. "They are steadfast, very reliable, and I would trust them with my life." The Kel Dor Jedi had developed something of a rapport and an amicable relationship with the clones, even in his brief time with them on Geonosis. Despite his intimidating appearance, Plo Koon was known for his kindness and deep respect of all life. According to Shaak Ti, he had also been considered in deciding who would manage clone training, and she won out by a slim margin.

Obi-Wan already knew about Siri's thoughts of what laid ahead. Not counting the time she had to recover and readjust from two rough years of posing as a slaver, and being separated from her child, she had always been action-oriented. Not one to sit idly on the sidelines. Siri needed something to do, to get the blood flowing, or she would go mad.

As the cruiser exited from hyperspace and entered Kamino's orbit, Jedi converged around the windows to peer at the planet they were entering. Swirling storms dotted the orb of dark blue. Obi-Wan strode up to settle between Anakin and Siri as they took in the view.

"Never seen so much blue from space before," Anakin remarked. " You're sure we don't have to go underwater to reach the clone facilities, Master?"

Obi-Wan chuckled. "Yes, I'm sure. We'll get drenched, but we don't have to dive down anywhere."

"Good." His former apprentice crossed his arms and bunched up his shoulders for a moment before relaxing them. "I'm not used to all that water."

Siri gave Anakin an apologetic glance. "Sorry if this seems to put you a step back, since you were just knighted, but to me, coming here to train is like us being Padawans again."

"In a way," Obi-Wan said. "But now we are smarter and wiser. Learning will be easier the second time around. Hopefully."

* * *

Lama Su greeted the Jedi who disembarked from the cruiser and entered the facilities. The Kaminoan Prime Minister led them to where they would meet clones freshly graduated from the academy, those were deemed ready to follow orders and work as a unit.

"I hope that the Jedi-clone coordination program we had put together will be to your liking," Lama Su said. "We thought that our troopers should see what you are capable of, and how you give orders, before we send them into a real battlefield." Narrowing of his wide dark eyes broke the neutrality on his pale face. "Emergency deployment of the clones to Geonosis was unexpected. Ideally they should have first worked with you under a simulated environment, but there was no time for both parties to get properly acquainted. That's why I'm surprised that the casualties aren't nearly as bad as I had feared."

Despite multiple Jedi being present, and Lama Su didn't lower his voice to leave out anyone, Siri still thought that the Prime Minister seemed to be addressing primarily Obi-Wan. Perhaps on the assumption that he led and represented the Jedi? That didn't surprise her. Obi-Wan's first visit to Kamino had unexpectedly thrust him into the spotlight of representing the Jedi Order. Perhaps the Prime Minister even attributed the sudden, unplanned deployment of clones to Obi-Wan's capture, and wasn't the happiest about that.

No one replied to Lama Su. In fact, with Yoda and Mace Windu back in Coruscant, everyone seemed to look at Obi-Wan to carry on the conversation on the Jedis' behalf.

Obi-Wan cleared his throat. "Yes, we are surprised with the battle's outcome as well. By protocol, each Jedi Master can have only one apprentice at a time. We've never fought in such a large group, or commanded non-Jedi subordinates, until the battle on Geonosis."

Lama Su craned back his long neck as he considered this. "In that case, the Jedi have performed well under the circumstances. Still, we invited you here so that you will be better prepared for future battles."

"Thank you for your consideration. My comrades will not disappoint you."

Lama Su slowly cocked his oblong head. "We shall see."

Despite Obi-Wan recounting his Kamino visit to her beforehand, Siri was blown away by the magnitude of the place and its operations. Her fellow Jedi shared her wide-eyed awe, as their necks tilted back and heads swiveled to take in the huge scope of the facility. She found herself particularly unnerved at walking through the clone nursery. So many fetuses floating around, naked and tiny...within a few years, they'll be wearing armor and holding blasters in their hands. Siri felt a shiver run up her spine.

A female Kaminoan met them along the way. "I am Nala Se, the Chief Medical Scientist," she said. Her unblinking eyes settled on Shaak Ti. "You must be the Jedi who will oversee the cadets. Come with me. I will show you where we train them."

Shaak Ti split up from the rest of the group, who continued following Lama Su farther into the facilities. Siri didn't quite like the air around the Kaminoans. Like Lama Su, Nala Se sounded cool and devoid of emotion. Jedi may have developed a reputation for being aloof and detached, but the Kaminoans proved to be even more so. No doubt they had brilliant minds, otherwise these cloning facilities wouldn't be possible and famed for being the best. But how much of their capacity for morals and feelings did they have to give up to attain that brilliance?

Lama Su stopped at an enormous auditorium, where the group of Jedi could overlook the clones lined up in formation below. He gestured with a slow sweep of his arm. "Here we are, Master Jedi. These are the troopers you will be working with during your stay."

The clones had their helmets off and tucked under one arm, so that they looked up and laid eyes on their future commanders for the first time. Though they dutifully stood to attention with passive expressions, Siri could sense their collective curiosity and intrigue as they stared back at her, Obi-Wan, and her comrades. Such a reaction was typical among those who had never seen Jedi before. Even the clones weren't an exception to it.

"Each Jedi member is sorted into a random unit of clones," Lama Su went on. "Assignments are not permanent. If you wish to continue working with the same unit, however, we are not opposed to that. You will be handed datacards so you can find your unit and be informed of further instructions."

Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Siri received their datacards from a Kaminoan. According to the datacards, the Jedi were tasked with completing a set of simulated drills on each day of their stay on Kamino. They were given a scenario and a pre-determined maneuver to neutralize the enemy. Clone troopers would not be aware of this information. It was up to the Jedi to relay the orders. Communication and trust was imperative in the thick of battle. Groups would rotate through the scenarios so they can be exposed to different environments and targets.

Obi-Wan was assigned to the 212th unit and had to destroy a Separatist-controlled power plant.

Anakin was assigned to the 501st unit and had to rescue hostages captured by a droid army.

Siri was assigned to the 406th unit and had to gun down airborne reinforcements from the ground.

When she met up with her unit, rather than jumping right into discussing the battle plan, she wanted to get properly acquainted with the clones. "Good afternoon. Or evening—I can't tell with all this Kamino rain. My name is Siri Tachi, and I will lead the simulated attack. Remove your helmets. I would like to see your faces."

The troopers exchanged a glance at the unusual order, but complied. One of them couldn't help remarking wryly, "General, there's not much to see. We all look the same."

"There's more to you than meets the eye." Her gaze swept the array of identical faces. Faces that hid individual personalities, and their true age. Though accelerated growth granted the troopers the appearance of men in their prime, they were actually not much older than her son, who was more or less eleven years old now. Siri found that fact disconcerting.

"I have an extra assignment for this unit. By the end of today, I expect you all to come up with names you choose for yourselves." She smirked as she remembered overhearing Garen's remark. "I'm not very good at remembering strings of random letters and numbers."

The troopers exchanged glances again, this time out of amusement.

Once the simulation commenced, she and the clones promptly got down to business. Siri acted as cover to deflect fire from projected airships with her lightsaber, while her unit worked on bringing them down. The commander, CC-4839, possessed a fiery, no-nonsense dedication to sweep airships off the radar. His approach matched well with Siri's focused and determined way of fighting. The last time she had any kind of leading capacity was when she had mentored Ferus. It had been several years since then. The clones under her followed orders without question, though they could do with some more flexibility and adaptability under pressure. A lot like how Ferus used to be.

Think of this like having a bunch of Ferus Olins under you, she told herself.

As she carried the clones through the drills, memories of her brusque yet easygoing manner returned. Between orders she gave out, she would slip in words of encouragement, reminders to loosen up, and even a dry joke to relieve the tension. It seemed to benefit the clones as the last few drills of the day finished with more finesse and efficiency.

"Good job," she told them at the end of the day. "It has been a pleasure working with you." However, she sensed that the commander facing her didn't seem satisfied. "Is something wrong?" She asked him.

He shook his head. "I'm sorry, General Tachi, but my men and I have failed to come up with names other than our designation numbers. What's in a name besides that? We don't know."

"I won't hold it against you for that," she said kindly. "I just thought that would be preferable to going by designation numbers." She had meant it to be a light-hearted suggestion, but she realized now that these clones, despite their rigorous training, had no idea of how the rest of the galaxy worked beyond the facility that bred and isolated them. Besides how to battle, they didn't know much else, like the simplest things taken for granted. Like names. The clones had much to learn about what the Kaminoans hadn't taught them. They were not very different from children, in a way.

"Names represent who you are," she went on. "Usually a positive trait or quality. Girls, for example, are often named after flowers or feminine qualities like beauty and gentleness. Boys are often named after virtues like courage and strength. Some names don't translate into anything at all, but they have a nice sound to it."

Like Obi-Wan. He had an intriguing name, but even after trying to consult datapads, Siri still wasn't able to figure out what it meant. He himself had admitted with embarrassment that he didn't know either, which didn't help.

CC-4839 raised his hand. "Permission to ask a personal question, General?" At her nod, he went on, "Your first name, Siri...what does it mean?"

_That_ she knew. "It means 'beautiful victory' in Volvenger."

"Beautiful victory..." He cracked a smile. "Very appropriate for the drills today."

She nodded in agreement. If the commander couldn't come up with a name of his own, she would do it for him. "You really swept those ships out of the sky every time. Because of that, I propose calling you Sweeper. What do you think, Commander?"

CC-4839 tried to keep a straight-laced composure, but at the approving smiles that broke out among the troopers, he couldn't hide looking pleased. "That suits me just fine, General. Sweeper, it is."

"See? Coming up with names isn't so hard. You don't have to come up with them yourselves. You can have others help with that, if you want. Just like I did with you, Sweeper. Think of something that's meaningful to you, and everyone who knows you will never forget it."

Siri looked on with content as the clones stowed away their weapons and started up an animated discussion of which new names to take. Sheehin meant 'peace' in Volvenger, and Siri had given her son that name because for the first time on the undercover mission that almost broke her spirit, he brought her peace as she held him. At two months, just as he was learning to smile and laugh at her, she had to let go of her source of peace. Among the clones, Siri decided to leave this story unsaid.

They didn't need to hear a superior's emotional baggage.

* * *

Obi-Wan's uncertainty and unease lifted the more he worked with the 212th unit. He still couldn't completely shake off the ironic image of peacekeepers and bred soldiers working together, but the clones turned out to be valuable allies who fought with measure, rather than warmongering aggression. CC-2224 proved exceptional for strictly adhering to orders and providing support when Obi-Wan called for it. In all honesty, the staunchly obedient and loyal 212th unit provided a refreshing change from Anakin's rule-bending tendencies and reckless streak. But Obi-Wan kept this to himself. He thought it best not to dig Anakin in the ribs with it later.

Outside of the simulated battlefield, though the Kaminoans didn't deem it necessary, many of the Jedi continued to mingle with the clones during meal times in the mess hall. Obi-Wan's unit had been spending lunches and dinners coming up with new names to replace their designation numbers.

At the adjacent table, Siri turned in the bench and leaned over to talk to him. "Your clones are also having naming sessions, huh?"

Obi-Wan chuckled. "Yes, it seems that you and I think alike." Then he went on with seriousness, "Numbers are for droids, in my opinion, not for human beings. Even if they are modified humans like clones. I just thought that this little exercise could help us grow closer as a unit."

"I think it's working. Does your commanding officer have a name yet?"

Obi-Wan felt a bit sheepish. "CC-2224 follows the rules and knows protocol so well that I joked about him being bound to the code, so I called him Cody. The name stuck."

Siri laughed. "Sounds like someone I know very well. That would definitely be your name if you were a clone trooper."

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. "You really think so?"

"What would mine be?"

He stroked his bearded chin. "Hmm..." A devilish smile crossed his lips. "I would call you Hutt."

Her mouth dropped open in scandalized horror, then she punched him in the arm. "Obi-Wan, how dare you—"

"Because you _swear_ like one, not because you _look_ like one!"

Siri pulled back her fist. "Uh-huh. Sure."

In their younger days, whenever Obi-Wan teased her, she liked to put him in a mock headlock and torment him for a few seconds in her grip. He found himself rubbing his neck from the memory. Fortunately Siri didn't spring the move on him in a mess hall filled with clones, sparing him the embarrassment.

Instead she rose to take up her finished tray. "I have my parents, whoever they are, to thank for giving me a decent name."

"It's a beautiful name," he said. Fit for a beautiful woman. He didn't say that aloud, of course.

* * *

Siri's first mission as a Jedi General came after a crisis that hit too close to home, in more ways than one.

Anakin and his new Padawan managed to track down ten stolen Force-sensitive children at the volcanic mining world of Mustafar.

Siri and two squads from her 406th Battalion were sent to assist them. Every Jedi had quickly gotten word of the Temple breach, the robbery of a Holocron, and the mass kidnapping. She was no exception. She actually almost fainted when she had heard the news from Obi-Wan, but years of discipline and training helped her hold it together. And to think that this was all done by a single bounty hunter? Horrifying to think about. Siri despised the thought of those poor children being ripped away from their families and subjected to harm. She couldn't bear to just stand by. So when the Council, particularly Obi-Wan, suggested including her in the rescue effort, she jumped to accept it.

Anakin set his ship _Twilight_ on the course to Mustafar, and flying alongside them was the ship containing Siri and her troopers. He got in touch with Siri via hologram. "Master Tachi, thanks for coming out to help us."

"Of course. And you can just call me Siri. We're equals now."

Anakin allowed a smile at that. "Siri, this is my Padawan, Ahsoka Tano."

Siri inclined her head at the young Togruta. "I wish we met under less dire circumstances, but it's a pleasure to meet you nonetheless."

"Likewise, Master Tachi," Ahsoka replied.

The Jedi couldn't afford any more small talk. Anakin jumped right into discussing tactics as they neared Mustafar. "We have to expect heavy security and resistance from whatever secret facility the younglings are held."

Siri nodded. "Handling that is what I'm here for. You and Ahsoka focus on breaking into the facility and locating the children. But there's no way that just the two of you can extract all ten of them at once, so my men and I will help with that."

Their ships descended onto cliffs near a foreboding compound that perched precariously over a volcanic pit. Hardly a place to keep infants. The powerful acrid stench of ash and rippling heat of flowing magma hit the Jedi like a hot wave as soon as they stepped down from the ships' ramps.

"Are we sure we're in the right place?" Ahsoka asked.

"Only one way to find out," Anakin replied.

Siri frowned as she looked around, but not for the reason Ahsoka did. "Where's the security here? No droids springing out to attack us? Seems like we're just waltzing in here."

"Maybe whoever manages this place didn't expect it to be found," Ahsoka suggested.

Siri turned to Sweeper. "Take point around the perimeter with your squads. I'll go with Anakin and his Padawan to try breaking inside."

The commander acknowledged the order with a nod and beckoned his troops to follow after him.

The Jedi didn't run into any elaborate security countermeasures, or any entrances with difficult access. As they entered a junction of halls, however, they were hit with something sinister, like an Anacondan that slithered underfoot. Something worse than ash and heat. The hair on Siri's neck stood on end, and she gripped her lightsaber hanging down her left hip.

Ahsoka recoiled. "What's that? I don't like it."

"That's the Dark Side," Anakin said with a scowl. "We're at the right place. The kids have to be here somewhere."

A child's cry broke the shadowy silence. A surge of maternal instinct, combined with Force perception, compelled Siri to run down the right hall. "This way," she called to the other two over her shoulder. Anakin and Ahsoka pelted after her.

Lightsabers were unhooked and activated by the time they reached the room at the end of the hall. Eerie red light bathed the rows of operating beds and trays of surgical tools.

Ahsoka peered down the nearest bed and looked up with dismay. "They're empty. We're too late."

"No, I sense that they're still here," Anakin said.

True to his word, lights blinked through the darkness to reveal the forms of ten or so surgical droids handling the infants. The droids leapt out to attack with their free limbs. The Jedi had no choice but to follow the deadly dance and hold back.

"Careful with the younglings," Anakin called.

"I know, I know," Ahsoka shouted as she kept ducking swipes and jabs.

Siri bit back a curse. The droids were using the babies as shields. One careless swing of the lightsaber would be disastrous. She deactivated her lightsaber and barked orders into her wrist comlink. "Sweeper, have half the men surround the compound. Send in the other half to retrieve the children. We can't let the surgical droids escape."

Nine troopers stormed into the room, blasters at the ready, but Siri waved at them to lower their weapons. "Don't shoot! You could hit the children."

The clones understood the need to switch to hand-to-hand combat. Donned in tough armor, they had no qualms about beating and kicking the droids into submission before snatching the babies away.

Suddenly, a sickening metallic groan resounded throughout the compound, and the floor came apart in loud cracks.

"This place is gonna sink," Ahsoka cried.

Anakin grit his teeth. "It was _programmed_ to sink. That explains why there's no security or Separatist droids around."

"Whoever's in charge wanted to bury the evidence," Siri said grimly. A timely, nimble hop onto firmer floor saved her from falling into lava. "The less left behind, the better." Then she called to the clones, "Retreat to firm ground." The droid she'd been grappling with lost its footing as the floor gave way and split underneath them. In that moment of distraction, Siri used the Force to wrest the Herglic baby from the droid's grip and into her arms.

Ahsoka retrieved a Nautolan baby before the droid plunged past the floor's cracks. Anakin used the same Force pull Siri did to save a Rodian baby from a dive into the lava, and kicked off the droid to jump away from the collapsing wall. Siri made the quickest mental headcount she had ever done to ensure that all ten children were in the arms of Jedi and clones. Then they hightailed it out of the deteriorating compound.

As the last ones out, Anakin, Ahsoka, and Siri had to close the gap between themselves and firm cliffs with Force jumps. They sailed through the air well beyond their average capability. Clones who weren't carrying children caught the trio when they landed and held them steady, so they wouldn't lose their balance and tip over the edge.

Volcanic ash scratched at Siri's throat and lungs as she panted. "Is that...is that everyone?"

"Yes, General," Sweeper replied. "All eighteen men are present and we have seven children. That was a close call."

"It sure was," Ahsoka said between gulps of air.

Anakin managed a smile of relief as he looked down at the Rodian baby he held. "Looks like we came just in time before the droids operated on them. Let's report the good news to the Council, then send these little guys home."

Siri boarded Twilight with Anakin and Ahsoka on their way back to Coruscant. It wasn't a quiet trip at first.

"I can't get them to calm down." Panic was stamped all over Ahsoka's face as she juggled the wailing Rodian and the squirming Nautolan in her arms.

Siri didn't hesitate to rescue the hapless Padawan. "Would you like to trade?"

"Yes, please." Ahsoka handed over the Rodian baby, while Siri passed along the Herglic she had lulled into sleep.

Siri gently bounced the Rodian in her arms. "Shhh, everything will be okay. That's enough excitement for one day, huh?" At her crooning, the baby's wails died down and he blinked big, wet starry eyes up at her. "Don't worry, little one. We'll get you back to your mother soon." Siri rubbed two fingers behind his pointed green ear. The Rodian baby gurgled and snuggled deeper into Siri's arms.

Ahsoka looked over at her, clearly impressed. "Wow, Master Tachi. You're good with kids."

Siri just smiled at Ahsoka without telling her why. She had done the same thing to soothe baby Sheehin when he got upset and fussy. A gentle rub behind the ear always did the trick.

The job wasn't quite done yet. The children, once they were reported to be accounted for and safe, still had to be returned to their families. Anakin, Ahsoka, and Siri split up to deliver the children to the various worlds they were snatched from.

No matter the size of the family, or the species, Siri encountered the same overwhelming joy when she arrived with a child to return. Back at the Temple, she met up with Anakin and Ahsoka in the Council chamber to deliver their confirmation of the children's safe return. After their report, Anakin picked up on the bittersweet pangs that lingered in her heart.

"This mission...rescuing kids from danger, returning them to their families...that must've been hard for you," he said to her in a soft voice. He had waited until Ahsoka was out of earshot to speak up. He still respected his vow to secrecy all those years ago, and Siri appreciated him for that.

"I don't regret going," she replied. "I'm glad I could help you and Ahsoka. I saw to it myself that the younglings were brought back safe and sound, and I couldn't have been happier." Worry swelled in her chest as she thought of the initiates, especially Sheehin. "Temple security's going to have to be tighter than ever. We need to make sure that a breach never happens again."

Anakin furrowed his brow. "Right. I always thought this place was impregnable. And we still don't know who's behind the kidnappings. I wish we could have salvaged clues from the lab on Mustafar."

"In any case, we need to be extra careful. We shouldn't underestimate the enemy."

Anakin retired to his quarters, while Siri waited in the nearby hall until the Council meeting was adjourned and Obi-Wan emerged from the chamber. He seemed tense, so she took a stab at lightening him up. "I have to admit, I'm still getting used to seeing you seated in one of those chairs."

He met her eyes and the corners of his mouth twitched up. "Yes, I can hardly believe it myself." Upon his return from training in Kamino, a promotion to the Jedi Council awaited him. Being the quiet and humble man that he always was, he tried to make no fanfare of it, but word still got around of his unusually fast ascension through the Jedi ranks.

Siri thought that was well deserved. Obi-Wan was among the most gifted Jedi in the Order, the definition of what a Jedi ought to be. His level-headed demeanor and thinking would only be an asset among the Council.

"Imagine Qui-Gon seeing me now," he said wryly. "He always used to butt heads with the Council."

Siri chuckled as she remembered Qui-Gon and his maverick reputation. "He probably would have kept butting heads with them. With you included."

"I agree. Anyway, excellent job with retrieving and returning the Force-sensitive children, Siri." Obi-Wan looked away and a shadow passed over his face. "I wish I could have done better on my end. Cad Bane slipped out of our grasp again, and he is still at large."

"But you got the Holocron back and its information is secure again." She followed his gaze to the nearby skyscrapers below the Temple. "They'll be another chance at nabbing that bounty hunter. We won't be seeing the last of him. I can feel it."

"I hope your intuition is on point." He raised a palm to his temple, as if nursing a headache. "It's hard to step back and see clearly with this war raging on."

* * *

Most younglings were exhausted at the end of the day after training exercises, but tonight, gossip was lively among those too intrigued and anxious to sleep. Even if Sheehin wanted to get some sleep, that would be impossible, since he shared the dormitory with six other younglings who would rather stay up and talk about the recent incident.

The self-appointed ringleader of their little group, Petro, had his gaze dart left and right as if out of suspicion. "You better sleep with one eye open from now on, or before you know it, you'll get whisked away from the Temple."

Lying in his bed but wide awake, Sheehin frowned as his grip tightened over the pillow. "N-n-not funny, Petro."

"Yeah, cut it out." Katooni reached over her bed to poke Petro in the ribs. "You want to give us all nightmares?" She cast a concerned glance at Sheehin, who smiled back in appreciation. Of all the younglings here, the Tholothian girl had always been the kindest to him. When they were younger, she would come to his defense when other younglings mocked his stutter, and he was too timid to stand up for himself.

"Hey, I'm just saying that we should be careful," the young Corellian said in defense. "The Temple was broken into, a Jedi Holocron was stolen, Force-sensitive babies were kidnapped...what's next? Someone or something coming after us?"

"I don't want to imagine," Zatt, a Nautolan boy, said firmly.

Gungi, a young Wookiee, grunted in agreement. Byph said nothing, but the Ithorian youngling shivered under his blankets and the sound of chattering teeth came from the mouths on the sides of his neck.

"We'll be s-safe here," Sheehin insisted. "The higher ups will really make sure that nothing bad's going to happen to us."

"Let's hope you're right," Petro said.

Ganodi glanced warily at the door. "Quiet down," the Rodian girl hissed. "I want to talk more about this as much as the rest of you—well, some of you—but I don't want to get in trouble with the Clan Master for staying up past curfew."

At that, the younglings settled into their beds and fell into a disquieted silence. When Sheehin could finally fall asleep, he dreamed once again of the woman who held him and sang to him. Her hair was as red as fire, and fierce black paint covered her face, but her voice was gentle and soothing. He could only assume that this woman must have been his mother, before he was given up to be raised in the Temple. The words from her lips were unintelligible to Sheehin, but clearly spun into a lullaby that brought him peace he could never find in his waking moments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: Now part of the Jedi Council, Obi-Wan acts on Siri's request to check on Sheehin.


	10. Kept Apart By Suns and Moons

Siri had not seen Obi-Wan since closing the Force-sensitive child rescue mission. She had grown used to nearby clones huddled around a fire, or in the confines of a ship, being the first and last sight whenever she woke up or went to sleep. Over time she forgot what her Temple quarters looked like. She hopped from world to world with her clone battalion, taking assignment after assignment to bring down one droid army after another. The Separatists seemed to have a neverending supply of those "clankers," the clones would derisively call them.

For Siri, and for many Jedi, the hardest part about being in command was living with losing men. Due to the chaos in battle, bodies often couldn't be recovered for proper burial. When Siri regrouped with her troops after a fight, whether it ended in triumph or a retreat, she always tried to set aside moments of silence to remember those who gave their lives to the Republic. These clones were not unfeeling, disposable copies. They were living, breathing human beings who laughed and cried. They mourned over the deaths of their brothers. None of them blamed her for the losses. Even if she did her best to give orders that minimized risks, war always produced casualties. That was the harsh reality. The clones understood this. They were bred and trained for it. Still, they had every right as human beings to find brotherhood and value among each other.

Siri heard of a few Jedi who found the pressure of managing a military operation too great, and found the death tolls too heavy of a burden. Those Jedi voluntarily resigned from being Generals and were reassigned to other forms of military service. Bant was one of them. The Mon Calamari Jedi was competent at commanding, but becoming a Jedi healer better suited her kind and gentle nature.

As for Siri, she wore the mantle of Jedi General like a comfortable second skin. Perhaps it was the Volvenger blood in her, the inherent deep-seated part of her that, despite her upbringing on pacifistic Jedi philosophy, thrived on the thrill of a good fight. Pushing herself and her troops into enemy ranks, mowing them down left and right with her lightsaber, got her heart pumping and feeling more alive than ever.

Being a Jedi General often drew Siri away from the Temple, but strangely enough, she found that to be a relief. Otherwise, the temptation to check on her son would assault her relentlessly. The war provided a distraction in some ways, but not completely. Sooner or later, her thoughts would wander back to Sheehin, and how he was doing back on Coruscant. What kind of student was he? Proper and rule-bound as she once was? Or bold and willing to bend the rules a bit, as she was now? Siri couldn't help wondering. And after that kidnapping incident, she couldn't help worrying. She wished she could express her concerns to the Jedi Council.

'Obi-Wan is on the Council now.'

The sudden thought hit her like a bolt of lightning. Why hadn't she thought of it before? Not only did members of the Council know about her connection with Sheehin, but they weren't restricted from seeing him if they wanted. Obi-Wan was also often away on assignment for several days or weeks at a time, but not as frequently as her since he had to attend Council meetings.

For several days she had no success with contacting him. At every attempt she made, she was met with a trooper from his 212th Battalion saying that their General was occupied. By "occupied," Siri knew that often entailed Obi-Wan being thrust into a hail of blasterfire, or escaping explosions by the skin of his teeth. And whenever he was accompanied by Anakin: make that twice the blasterfire and explosions.

'The war just can't give that poor man a rest,' she thought.

And whenever he had time to get back to her, _she_ was away and occupied with her own battles. If the war had a face, she would punch it square in the nose.

After three months, when Siri was stationed in Malastare and Obi-Wan survived a horrifying scrape on Geonosis, they could finally talk without their troops taking messages for them.

Obi-Wan looked ragged, worn out, and aged by a few years, even on hologram. "I apologize for taking this long to talk to you, Siri. Running for my life through a pitch-dark underground maze from the Geonosian queen and her zombie army took a lot out of me."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Come again? A _zombie_ army?"

He shook his head. "You won't believe it until you've seen it. Parasitic worms are responsible for spreading the zombie infection. Even a few of my clones had gotten infected." A disappointed look added to the weariness on his face. "Unfortunately, Anakin literally squashed any chance of me studying a worm. I'm going to give him a long, stern lecture about that later."

"Sounds like quite the adventure. Too exciting for your taste, I bet."

"Oh, certainly. Anyway, I'm heading back to the Temple to recuperate for a few days before I'm up for another assignment."

She seized the chance to bring up the issue that had been on her mind for a while. "Since you're going to the Temple, I have a big favor to ask you."

"What is it, Siri?"

"Whenever you have time, please check on my son. I want to know how he's doing. I'm not allowed to see him, but since you're part of the Council, you can. It's not unreasonable that the mass abduction of Force-sensitive babies got me worried about my own child, right?" Then she quickly added, "You absolutely don't have to check on him, since you must be exhausted. And I completely understand if you don't have the time, either." She felt bad for asking this of him.

"No, I don't mind," Obi-Wan insisted. "I'll do my best to see him." Humor was laced in what he said next, "I can't go see your son if I don't know his name first, though."

Siri fought back a smile. "His name is Sheehin."

"Sheehin...all right, I'll keep an eye out for him when I get to Coruscant. I'll let you know about him as soon as I can."

She bowed. "Thank you, Obi-Wan."

"You're welcome, Siri, and safe travels. I heard from the other Council members that you're heading for the mess on Giju next. May the Force be with you."

Siri returned the customary Jedi farewell and his hologram flickered out, leaving her to dwell on the anticipation of the next time he would get back to her.

* * *

Obi-Wan welcomed visits to the Temple as a much-needed reprieve from the harrowing, thankless job of being a Jedi General. Much as he fully trusted and respected Cody and his clone troopers, he would like to get away from them and take a brief break in a more peaceful, familiar environment before jumping back into the fray. At the Temple entrance, he parted ways with the 212th to fulfill a favor asked of him by his dearest friend.

Despite facing Siri's hologram, not in person, Obi-Wan had caught something in her eyes when she made her request. Something between sadness and mischief. Through him and his position in the Jedi Council, she had found a loophole to get more on Sheehin than just the memories of him as an infant. Memories that she had been clinging on to for the past twelve or so years. Siri may be a Jedi, but it was natural for her as a mother to worry about her child. Especially after what happened to the Force-sensitive children across the galaxy. Obi-Wan couldn't bring himself to say no when she had asked.

Besides, he himself became intrigued. Curiosity crept on him like vines as he ventured farther into the Temple hallways. He had always wondered what Siri's son was like. Now that he had a seat on the Jedi Council, he had the privilege of checking on the boy without getting into trouble.

Obi-Wan headed to the Archives. In addition to accessing the list of children born Force-sensitive, he could access a complete record of every occupant in the Jedi Temple, from the newest youngling freshly relinquished by parents to the most senior Jedi Master (which didn't need any look at the records, because everyone knew that was Yoda). He could have easily and simply asked one of the Masters in charge of the younglings for Sheehin, but he didn't want to draw attention to the boy by singling him out. It didn't take Obi-Wan long to find the full name on the record.

Sheehin Soha. Obviously he wouldn't be having his mother's last name, Tachi. The Council ensured that there would be no evidence of any familial connection, or any opportunity for contact. According to the records, Sheehin was sorted into the Hawkbat Clan.

Obi-Wan made his way next to the youngling dormitories, which took him back several years as the halls and rooms remained unchanged since his time there. He had shared a room with the friends he still had today. Reeft used to sneak in food from the dining hall. The room had to be kept a bit on the humid side to make Bant, a Mon Calamari, feel comfortable. Garen liked to tell scary Sith stories before bedtime. Quinlan never fully grasped how to make a bed properly. Obi-Wan smiled at the warm swell of nostalgia within him. Suddenly he yearned for those simpler times, when all he had to worry about was whether he would become a Padawan learner or not. Now he had to deal with the fate of the entire galaxy in his hands, it seemed.

"Master Kenobi, what are you doing here?"

A heavily modulated voice snapped Obi-Wan out of his thoughts. The modulated voice came from the translator on the long neck of a male Ithorian Clan Master, whose native language was converted to intelligible Basic. The Ithorian made a small bow. "Forgive me, I didn't mean to sound accusatory. I was just surprised. I thought you were away fighting the Separatists."

"I was for a while," Obi-Wan replied. "I need a break, though. It's good to be back."

"I'm sure. What brings you to the youngling dormitories, Master?"

"Just taking a stroll down memory lane," Obi-Wan said, which wasn't far from the truth. "I'm wondering which Clans are doing exercises at this time."

"Ah yes, that would be the Hawkbat and Thranta Clans. They're in the middle of team-building exercises in the courtyard. Would you like me to escort you there, Master Kenobi?"

Obi-Wan grinned. "Thank you for the offer, but I remember the way." He didn't recognize the Ithorian, or know his name. Not everything about this place remained completely unchanged. The Masters who had looked after him, and the fellow younglings he had grown up with, were either one with the Force or spread out across the galaxy due to the war.

Obi-Wan heard the grunts and shouts of younglings before he caught sight of them. He entered the spacious courtyard to find the two Clans engaged in the classic exercise of protecting the unarmed. Quinlan used to call it "Cover The Civvies." One Clan wielded practice lightsabers to deflect low-grade shots from seeker droids, while the other Clan took the role of unarmed, innocent civilians who huddled together and had to be protected. A female Vurk, another Clan Master Obi-Wan didn't recognize, stood on the side directing the younglings with advice and warnings.

Obi-Wan could figure out that the Hawkbat Clan played the unarmed, because he spotted Sheehin in the huddled group. No mistake about it. He was Siri's son, all right. Sheehin had his mother's blonde hair, blue eyes, and lean, tall build. His long nose, thin mouth, and strong jawline, however, came from someone else. Whoever his father was.

Sheehin hid behind a pink female Twi'lek youngling from the Thranta Clan, who missed a shot that nailed Sheehin in the crook of his right arm. He yelped and clapped a hand over where he got hit.

"Hey, watch it!" Next to Sheehin, a Rodian girl snapped at the hapless Twi'lek. "If that got his head, your Clan would've been dead bantha meat."

The defenders lost if any of the unarmed received a shot to fatal areas, like the head or the chest. Obi-Wan ruefully remembered a stray shot to his face that made his nose and mouth sting for days. The exercise went on until a young Wookiee in the Hawkbat Clan uttered a pained, dismayed roar from a shot to the chest.

"That's it for the Thranta Clan," the Vurk Master called. "Switch places with the Hawkbat Clan."

The seeker droids powered down, and the Thranta Clan turned to hand over practice lightsabers to the Hawkbat Clan. Many younglings took the brief time to glance over at Obi-Wan as they shuffled around and murmured among themselves.

Now that she wasn't occupied with conducting the exercise, the Clan Master acknowledged him with a dip of her long crested head. "Master Kenobi, welcome. Are you here to observe the younglings?"

He returned the bow. "Yes, if you don't mind. I hope that my presence will not be too much of a distraction."

"I hope so, as well." Amusement tinged her voice. "You're something of an idol to these Jedi in-training."

He tucked both hands inside his voluminous sleeves and managed a small, embarrassed smile. The first Jedi to slay a Sith lord in a thousand years, mentor of the famous Anakin Skywalker, and more recently deemed the Negotiator for his talent in diffusing fights before they start...Obi-Wan didn't mean to draw eyes to his list of accomplishments that just seemed to keep piling up, but that was beyond his control. He didn't set out for glory and fame. He just wanted to do his job the best he could. He could really do without the attention. Especially the glaring, sensationalized spotlight of HoloNet.

Sheehin joined his clanmates in a ring around the other Clan, wielding a green practice lightsaber. At the Vurk Master's signal to begin, the seeker droids reactivated and resumed firing. Sheehin's movements to deflect the shots were smooth and precise. He didn't let a single shot slip past him. He knitted his brow and pursed his lips the same way Siri would when she pulled herself into a state of great concentration in battle.

Standing next to the Clan Master, Obi-Wan discreetly gestured to Sheehin. "That boy has good instincts."

"Yes, Sheehin's reflexes and perception of the Force is above average." She frowned. "As for his performance against another lightsaber duelist..."

Obi-Wan glanced at her as she trailed off, and she said, "You'll see."

The Hawkbat Clan lasted longer without a fatal shot than the Thranta Clan by three minutes. After a short break, in which Obi-Wan was surrounded by starstruck younglings and inundated with questions, the Clan Master regathered them to commence one-on-one lightsaber sparring.

Sheehin hadn't been among the younglings to approach Obi-Wan. He had stood off to the side, turning the practice lightsaber in his hands, and looked too shy to come up.

Now for the match, he was paired with a blue Karkarodon youngling, who fought as fiercely as he looked. Under the onslaught, Sheehin's parries and pivots were jerky and unsteady, a great contrast to how he did in the earlier exercise. He seemed to be gripping the lightsaber too tightly. His arms and shoulders seemed stiff, and he couldn't quite anticipate where the opposing lightsaber would swing next. He was never given a chance to fight for the upper hand. The young Karkarodon put him on defense the entire time. The round came to an end when a blow knocked Sheehin off balance and he sprawled on his back.

The Karkarodon deactivated his lightsaber, asked if Sheehin was okay, and offered his webbed hand. Sheehin took it and he was hauled back to his feet. Obi-Wan felt bad for assuming that the youngling would sneer and spit. Karkarodons had rows of sharp teeth that could rip just about anything apart, and they didn't have the friendliest faces. This Karkarodon youngling would be an exception among his fierce kind, and Jedi upbringing was to thank for that.

Sheehin patted the dust from his tunic, his face flushed with mingled exertion and embarrassment. He continued to look downcast as the rest of his fellow younglings sparred next. He appeared to be among the oldest of the younglings here. He would be thirteen soon, and by then he had to be either taken in by a Jedi Master or relegated to the Service Corps. Obi-Wan didn't need to ask the Clan Master why Sheehin hadn't been chosen as a Padawan yet.

While Anakin had long struggled with having too much confidence, Sheehin didn't have enough of it.

The younglings, done with exercises for the day, followed their Clan Master back inside. Obi-Wan thought about drawing Sheehin aside to give him advice and encouragement, but he held his tongue. Let the Clan Master do her job, he told himself. He was just here to observe, not implement any kind of special treatment. Exactly how much good would he do for Sheehin's case, anyway? He had spent so many years reining in Anakin and being the voice of reason. He hadn't been the kind of teacher to inspire a student to be more confident and assertive. Sheehin worked well enough in a team, against droids, and with the safety of others considered. He needed a teacher who recognized his potential and could light that spark within him, so he could hold his ground against someone or something with more willpower and vitality than a droid.

As the younglings made their way back to their rooms to rest, Obi-Wan noticed a Tholothian girl walking up next to Sheehin.

"Hey, I've been studying a lot of Soresu and Makashi kata lately. I think you should look into them, too. Soresu's tailored to your defensive style, and Makashi will help improve your dueling skills. My dueling also needs work and I need someone to practice with. How about we practice the forms together when we have free time?"

Obi-Wan saw the boy smile for the first time. "S-s-sounds good," Sheehin said. "Thanks a lot, Katooni."

"What's this I hear about extra lightsaber practice?" The Rodian girl asked. "Count me in."

"Us too," two boys, one Nautolan and the other human, said next.

The Wookiee who had been shot in the chest, and an Ithorian youngling, grunted to mean the same thing.

Sheehin grinned at them. "Sure, you c-c-can all join in."

'At least Sheehin has friends,' Obi-Wan thought. He had gotten the impression that Sheehin, like his mother, was a loner and had trouble mingling with his peers. He was glad that the boy had a support system to get him through tougher days.

* * *

Later that evening, speculations about the unexpected visit filled the younglings' shared bedroom.

"Why did Master Kenobi drop by to watch us train?" Zatt asked.

"B-b-beats me," Sheehin replied.

"He isn't training Anakin Skywalker anymore," Petro said. "Maybe he's looking out for another Padawan to take in." He puffed out his chest. "Maybe he'll choose me."

Byph and Gungi chortled in the way that their uniquely structured vocal chords allowed.

Ganodi laughed along with them. "You wish, Petro. He'd have all eyes on you and pull you aside to let you know if that was the case."

"Maybe it's just me, but I think that Master Kenobi was looking over at Sheehin the most," Katooni mused.

Sheehin hid a frown under his blankets. "Y-You think so? Why would he do that? There's nothing special about me. I'm not at the top of our class."

He didn't tell his friends and roommates, but he did have the nagging feeling that Master Kenobi had been eyeing him curiously throughout the exercises. Knowing that such an esteemed Jedi Master watched him had given him performance anxiety that bungled his sparring even worse than usual. If Master Kenobi really was looking for a new Padawan, Sheehin would feel very honored with being chosen. He was definitely not the only youngling to think that. To be trained by the one who had trained Anakin Skywalker, the Hero With No Fear...

As soon as Sheehin entertained the possibility, he firmly stomped it out. No way would he be considered. Master Kenobi would want an extraordinary student who showed great promise and skill. Or he could have not been interested in training another Padawan at all. Then why did he stop by to observe? Why did he seem to be curious about Sheehin in particular?

Sheehin curled up in his bed and hugged his stomach. Maybe Master Kenobi was concerned about his lack of progress. Maybe he was in danger of failing his training if he didn't make big improvements soon. His stomach turned at the thought.

Petro shrugged. "Well, we can guess all we want, but we're never going to know."

* * *

Feeling that he had seen enough to fulfill the favor asked of him, Obi-Wan spent the rest of his break catching up on lost hours of sleep and meditating. He missed the stretches of quietness and tranquility—something nowhere to be found when he was on assignment. If he lived to see the end of the war, he would happily settle in to be a Temple homebody and not take up assignments for a long time. Helping Jocasta Nu manage the Jedi Archives, or tending to the innumerable flora growing in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, would be the perfect therapy in his recovery from all the chaos and excitement of war.

Siri was still stationed several parsecs away. In a Council meeting held a few days after he observed the younglings, Obi-Wan received her follow-up report via hologram. She, along with Plo Koon's niece Sha Koon, had successfully helped the native Herglics drive away Separatist forces from Giju. Shortly after that, he took the chance to personally contact Siri in the seclusion of his temporary quarters.

"Good morning, Obi-Wan," she said. "I figured that you would call me in private after my report, so I stuck around."

He glanced at the windows before smiling at her. "It's late evening here in Coruscant, but yes, you guessed right."

"I hope you've rested well. Did you get a chance to see Sheehin in the mean time?"

"I did."

Interest slightly heightened the pitch in her voice. "What's he like?"

Obi-Wan knew he was just building up her anticipation as he paused to stroke his beard and recollect that day he visited the Hawkbat and Thranta younglings. "He takes after you in looks. He has your hair and your eyes, and he's tall for his age. Strong in the Force, with good perception and reflexes, but not very sure of himself. Fights well in a group and against droids, but lightsaber dueling needs improvement."

Many emotions flitted across Siri's face as she took all this in. She looked as if she imagined being there on Coruscant to see her son for herself. "Doesn't show an aptitude for dueling and not sure of himself, huh? Sounds like the opposite of me when we were his age."

Familial expectations subverted. Obi-Wan found that ironic. Siri had been in the top of her class for lightsaber dueling. "He seems to be on the quiet side, and he has a nervous stutter."

"Aw, poor kid," came Siri's heartfelt reply. "Does he have any friends?"

"I count six others who I've seen being the friendliest with him."

"That's good," she said with relief. "Being alone isn't fun. I would know. Sounds like Sheehin is still in a Clan. You know anything about his candidacy as a potential Padawan?"

As a discerning member of the Jedi Council, and as her friend, Obi-Wan had to be frank. "He still has some ways to go before any Master would take interest in him. I'm afraid that he is not ready to be chosen at this point."

"He'll be turning thirteen soon..." she murmured. "Probably before this war will end."

"Even if you aren't his mother, Siri, I think that you would be the perfect teacher for Sheehin." She opened her mouth, perhaps to protest or question him, but Obi-Wan quickly went on before she could speak. "Yes, I'm making another recommendation, like I did with Ferus. No, it won't be possible. Our rules forbid the arrangement, but you would be the kind of Master to give Sheehin the confidence and courage that he needs."

"You know, Obi-Wan, I can't disagree with you there." Siri sighed. "I would love to teach him. But all I can do is hope that he would improve and find a good Master before he turns thirteen."

"I hope so, too." His hopes were slim, however, since many Knights were occupied with traveling and fighting offworld. They wouldn't have the time to scout for future Padawans. Even without that considered, Sheehin wouldn't be a top choice. Maybe Siri knew this, and perhaps her own hopes were slim as well.

"Did you get to talk to him?" She asked.

Obi-Wan shook his head. "I only spent a day watching his Clan do two exercises. I would have liked to talk to him for a bit, though. Encourage him, advise him, and whatnot."

She smiled in understanding. "You were just doing what your Council position required of you: being objective and concerned about the progress of all future Jedi. If you had drawn Sheehin aside for some one-on-one teaching, the others might misconstrue that for a show of favoritism. Or that might've embarrassed him even more."

He nodded. "Yes, that's why I didn't approach him."

"Well, thank you so much for taking time out of your break to check on my son, Obi-Wan. I owe you."

He made a small wave of his hand. "It's quite all right, you don't owe me anything."

She smirked. "You say that now, but one of these days when you get yourself into hot water, you're going to need me to pull you out."

Obi-Wan briefly dragged a palm down his face. "Why do I get the bad feeling that's going to happen soon?"

Siri raised her eyebrows at him, and an impish smile played along her lips. "Uh oh. Your intuition has never proven you wrong."

Her teasing endured through their years of growing up together and followed him everywhere, even across suns and moons that kept them apart for weeks and months on end. Along with her penchant for uttering very un-Jedi-like words, the teasing was another part of Siri that Obi-Wan found incorrigibly endearing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you're curious of how I picture them: My faceclaim for 11-13 year-old Sheehin is Luke Shanahan, who played young Ubbe in the TV show Vikings. My faceclaim for Siri is Lucy Lawless as she appeared in Battlestar Galactica. Those pics of Lucy Lawless, AKA Xena Warrior Princess, rocking the black leather jacket scream Siri to me.
> 
> Up next: Obi-Wan investigates rumors about Duchess Satine in Mandalore. When Siri accompanies him, she's in for an unexpected reunion with someone she never thought she would ever see again.


	11. Old Flame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought a lot about how to handle Siri and Satine being in the same universe. I decided not to write about a love triangle. Don't get me wrong, I definitely stan Siriwan over Obitine, but I'm not interested in pitting female characters against each other, demonizing Satine, and making her and Siri get into a catfight over Obi-Wan.

Of the many worlds that Obi-Wan had to visit over the course of the war, Mandalore became the latest on his long list. Mandalore was part of the Council of Neutral Systems, and so far was adamant and steadfast in its stance to take no part in the war. Lately, however, rumors had it that Duchess Satine Kryze was secretly raising an army and aligning with the Separatists. Obi-Wan didn't even have to set foot out of the Jedi Temple, let alone visit the Mandalore System, to know that those rumors were outright ridiculous. That woman made it her life's work to advocate and maintain peace. She would rather die than compromise her beliefs.

Still, Obi-Wan was tasked to verify the rumors, and he didn't question his fellow Council members' decision. He thought that his briefing was over, but Mace Windu slipped in the last remark. "Another Jedi will accompany you to Mandalore. Someone you know very well."

Obi-Wan was in for a surprise when the doors to the Council chamber slid open.

Siri strode in and met his eyes with a bright smile.

He remained in his seat and returned the smile, though once they left the Council chamber together, he pulled her into a hug. "Siri, it's so good to see you in person again."

She returned the hug with the same vigor. "Good to see you too, Obi-Wan."

They had not seen each other face to face for half a year now. They continued to the hanger where a pair of Jedi starfighters awaited them.

"The Council wanted me to investigate the rumors on Mandalore because I'm acquainted with the Duchess," Obi-Wan said. "She'll be less on edge and more willing to talk since she'll be seeing someone she knows, not a total stranger." He glanced over at Siri. "Not that I'm complaining, but why are you coming along?"

"Natural of you to ask, because I have no ties to Mandalore like you do, but in addition to the rumor rummaging, I was told that the governor of Mandalore's moon specifically asked to see me." Siri held up a small datapad showing a dossier on the governor in question. "I did a little research after I've been briefed by the Council. Duchess Satine may be overseeing most of Mandalore, but its moon Concordia has its own governor and province."

Obi-Wan caught the name out of the corner of his eye. "Pre Vizsla..."

Siri frowned. "Never heard of him before until now. I don't recall ever seeing or meeting him on a prior mission. What would he want with me?"

Obi-Wan shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. Perhaps we'll find out together."

They flew their starfighters into Mandalore, past the desert plains ravaged by centuries of past wars, and into the domed capital city of Sundari. The transition from the stretch of wastelands to a thriving, self-contained biosphere was startling. Their starfighters flew through the mosaic of shining gray buildings like twin red arrows.

When they disembarked, a lone Mandalorian Protector waited for them on a speeder. "The Duchess awaits you."

"Far be it for me to keep her waiting," Obi-Wan remarked.

The speeder zoomed ahead, taking the two Jedi deeper into the capital city. They were led into an illustrious throne room covered from floor to ceiling in glass panes. Intricate designs were woven between the glass. Obi-Wan noticed the same designs that were present on Mandalorian armor. The only glass panes that were not transparent was a colorful artistic rendering of the Duchess's portrait.

A middle-aged man stood farther down the hall, and as Obi-Wan and Siri drew closer, he nodded at them. "Master Jedi, thank you for meeting with me."

"Prime Minister Almec," Obi-Wan said, both in greeting and to inform Siri.

Unlike him, she hadn't been previously acquainted with the Prime Minister. Almec had grown thinner and lost some of his hair since Obi-Wan had last seen him during the Mandalorian Civil War.

Almec flanked them as they continued their stride down the spacious hall. "I welcome you both as a servant of the people, but I am troubled by the false rumors that brought you here. Mandalore would never turn against the Republic. The Duchess values peace more than her own life."

"Oh, I'm aware of her views," Obi-Wan said.

The Prime Minister waved his hand. "Master Kenobi, Mandalore's violent past is behind us. All of our warriors were exiled to our moon, Concordia. They died out years ago."

Since Siri would be going to Concordia, Obi-Wan expected that comment from the Prime Minister to prick her ears.

Obi-Wan, on the other hand, wasn't assured by the comment. "Are you certain? I recently encountered a man who wore Mandalorian armor, Jango Fett."

"He was a common bounty hunter," Almec said dismissively, and with a tinge of disgust. "How he acquired that armor is beyond me."

As they neared the empty throne at the end of the hall, a finely dressed woman strode into view from a nearby corridor. Much of her blonde hair was pulled back and obscured by an elaborate headdress. "Obi-Wan Kenobi, it has been too long. A little more than twelve years since you had to be my Jedi Knight in shining armor."

Obi-Wan glanced at Siri, who reacted to that greeting with intrigue flitting across her face. She hadn't known about that year when he, along with Qui-Gon, had to protect Satine during the Mandalorian Civil War. That was a story for another time.

The Duchess looked to Siri next. "And you must be Siri Tachi. I don't believe we've ever had you on Mandalore before. Welcome."

"Thank you." Siri bowed to acknowledge the Duchess.

Obi-Wan also bowed. "You are looking well since we last saw each other."

"Kind words from a man who accuses me of treachery."

Satine's barbed reply didn't completely take him off guard. He should have known that she wouldn't have the pleasantries, but he had tried to start with smoothing out the tension. "I would never accuse you of personal wrongdoing, Duchess. However, a Separatist saboteur attacked one of our Republic cruisers. A Mandalorian saboteur." Obi-Wan pulled out a holoprojector showing an armored Mandalorian dodging blasterfire, and firing in return.

He expected Satine to react with indignity, but from her elevated seat, her face remained impassive as she watched the holoclip. When it ended with the Mandalorian frozen in midfire, she shook her head. "You must be mistaken. No Mandalorian would engage in such violence. Not anymore. Where is this prisoner now?"

Obi-Wan shook his head, fighting back frustration. "He took his own life rather than submit to questioning. I know these commandos fought in many wars, often against the Jedi."

Now the Duchess sounded indignant. "Every one of my people is as trustworthy as I am." Her hands balled into fists over the armrests, and she angled herself forward as her voice rose. "Clearly your investigation was ordered because the Senate is eager to intervene in our affairs."

Siri spoke up now, her tone calm yet ringing like durasteel. "Our investigation was ordered by the Jedi Council."

At that, Satine leaned back in her seat. "I stand corrected," she murmured. After a pause, she went on in a more amicable tone, "Master Kenobi, Master Tachi, perhaps you'd like to join me on a walk through the city. Peace Park is especially gorgeous. You would appreciate the scenery that's not unlike the gardens at the Jedi Temple. Not that I have personally seen those gardens, but I was told that was the case."

Siri made a small bow at Satine, and by the sound of her response, she was trying to dial back from the force of her tone earlier. "I'm sorry, Duchess, but I won't be able to accompany you. I have a meeting to attend on Concordia. Governor Vizsla requested my presence there."

Satine's delicate eyebrows rose with surprise. "He explicitly asked for you? Then you have no need for my escort. Normally that would be necessary." Satine's gaze lowered to the stairs at her feet and she said softly, "Strange...it's not like Governor Vizsla to readily see outsiders." She returned her attention to Siri. "Nevertheless, Master Tachi, don't let me keep you. Given his good record of protecting me during the civil war, I think I will be quite safe at the park with Master Kenobi around."

Obi-Wan extended a hand in a gentlemanly gesture to help Satine down the stairs, then he handed Siri an earpiece. "We should carry these in case either of us run into any trouble."

Siri fit the device into her ear. "Good idea."

What he said next required him to lean in confidentially toward her, out of Satine's earshot. "I have a hard time believing that the entire system is onboard with this dramatic shift into pacifism. Their long history of waging war seems hard to erase. Keep your eyes open and be careful."

Siri nodded. "You, too."

* * *

While Obi-Wan and Satine walked together into the gardens, Siri headed back to her Jedi starfighter to fly it out of Sundari. It didn't take her long to reach Concordia. She found the moon's surface to be an interesting mix of newly green forestland and rugged terrain carved out by mining facilities. She had a hard time believing that this small moon could fit an entire population of exiled warriors, which formed the majority of Old Mandalore's society.

Though so far she hadn't had the opportunity or reason to visit her homeworld, Siri knew that Volveng, like Mandalore, remained neutral during the war. Not because of taking a pacifistic stance—far from it. The warrior culture and society in Volveng was still very much alive, but the current internal wars that raged there led to the king, Sigurd, refusing to expend fighters and resources on the Clone Wars.

Siri spent the descent into Concordia wondering what could be the reason behind this arranged meeting. Satine had said that Concordia's governor wasn't the most open man to visitors, so what was it about Siri that caught his interest?

Awaiting Siri was a woman with short red hair held back by a headband. Her cool green gaze followed Siri's landing and disembarking from her starfighter. "You must be the Jedi Siri Tachi. Governor Vizsla is waiting for you inside his office. I will escort you to him."

Siri nodded. She didn't let the brisk greeting ruffle her. Perhaps an aversion to visitors extended to everyone occupying this moon, not just the governor. She followed the Mandalorian woman inside. Unlike the glassy, decorative throne room where she and Obi-Wan had met Satine, the Concordian city hall had a subdued, earthy color scheme and a more utilitarian, mechanical aesthetic. The door of the governor's office remained sealed shut even with the arrival of Siri and her escort, who spoke into the security pad affixed nearby.

"Sir, I have the Jedi with me."

The speaker somewhat distorted the man's cordial reply. "Thank you, Bo-Katan. You may go now. I'll take it from here."

The woman named Bo-Katan gave Siri a curt nod before turning away from the office. The door hissed open. Siri stepped inside and the governor rose from his seat at the desk.

"Welcome to Concordia, Siri Tachi. Or should I say Zora?"

A preliminary read over the datapad dossier didn't prepare Siri for this. Utter shock rendered her speechless for a few moments. "Shodo?"

Thirteen or so years added lines to his face and thinned out some of his blonde hair, but his voice never changed. Neither did his long nose and strong jaw.

"Bloody kri—I mean, stars and galaxies, it _is_ you," Siri breathed.

Shodo, Governor Pre Vizsla, chuckled as he stepped away from his desk to approach her. "Old habits die hard, don't they? It seems that you still have quite the spacer's mouth."

She said nothing to that, but she felt heat rise to her cheeks.

His grin brimmed with knowing amusement. "Are you tired from your journey to the Mandalore System? Might I interest you in some drinks?"

Siri felt neither tired nor thirsty, but while she was in the governor's territory, she thought it best to be courteous. "That would be nice," she replied. "I appreciate the offer."

Vizsla poured ice and Concordian scotch for two, then he sat next to her at the table overlooking a view of the forest past his office window.

Siri had so many questions. She didn't know where to start. "Had you always been the governor of Concordia when you went undercover?"

"No. I had been working in the local mines with my family since I was a boy, and I worked my way up to overseeing the management of them. Clan Vizsla had always been a proud line of warriors ever since mythosaurs once roamed our world. That's why I had yearned for more exciting, far-reaching work besides mining. That's why I had been tasked to help dismantle slave trade run by Krayn, and went by the name Shodo."

"What were you up to after that?" Siri asked. After you dropped me and Sheehin, she almost added.

"After my mission, I returned to managing the mines and improving Concordia's infrastructure. Did an undercover mission here and there, nothing as big as Krayn's slave trading operation. I was elected governor four years ago."

Years ago, Governor Vizsla—or Shodo, as she had first known him—never would have volunteered all this information. He had kept his background a closely guarded secret. To be fair, so did she. Siri had never told him that she was a Jedi. He had only found out when her cover was unintentionally blown by Anakin. She considered Vizsla's current friendliness and high status in Mandalorian politics. She wondered if she saw the real side of him now. Was his callousness and cold practicality just a front he had built around his cover? Just like how she had forged her fake identity in vulgarity, ferocity, and apathy to the suffering of slaves?

"I didn't know that Mandalorians did undercover work, especially to stop slavery," Siri remarked.

"We took interest in busting slavery rings because we found that many of our Mandalorian Guards and Protectors were freed slaves. Unjust subjugation provides a powerful motive to defend those who can't defend themselves. Interesting how that works." Vizsla scrutinized her over the rim of his glass. "Your hair is a different color, the paint is gone, and you're out of slaver's gear, but your eyes are the same," he remarked. "Cold and clear, like ice. I'd recognize them anywhere, after all these years." He reached out with a thumb and curled index finger to make the lightest touch on her chin. "So this is the real you, what you really look like. You are even more beautiful than when you were in disguise."

Siri froze and her breath hitched at his touch. She didn't know what to say. Her face warmed as memories of their illicit history together resurfaced, like rising magma of a once dormant volcano. She had gotten intimate with this man, let him touch her in secret places. He had given her comfort and pleasure that provided an escape from the enormous stress and pressure built around her cover. Most of all, he had given her a child: the greatest gift she could possibly receive.

Jedi stoicism fanned out the old flame that had lit within her. Siri closed her eyes. She couldn't forget the other reason why she was here. Pulling away from his touch, she said, "Obi-Wan Kenobi and I were sent by the Jedi Council to clarify rumors on Mandalore. Is it true that the Duchess made a secret allegiance to the Separatists?"

Vizsla lowered his hand and scoffed. "As true as saying that Hutts can say 'thank you.' Which is to say that those rumors aren't true at all. Satine Kryze is the very definition of pacifism. She would not side even with the Republic if it meant getting involved in the war."

Siri considered this with a sip of her scotch. She remembered Obi-Wan saying more or less the same thing about Satine. The governor of Concordia seemed to be a staunch supporter of the Duchess's ideals, which was reassuring.

Vizsla finished his glass and poured another round of scotch for himself. "When I heard that Jedi were being sent to Mandalore on an investigation, I had wanted you to be the one coming, so I asked for you."

Siri's fingers tightened over the handle of her glass. "I've been wondering why you wanted to see me, especially since I haven't heard anything from you in almost thirteen years."

"And for that, I apologize," he said softly. Sincerely. "You must think poorly of me, since I had left you and our son to Krayn's mercy. Or rather, lack of it. I've been wracked with guilt every day since then. I never stopped thinking about you." Vizsla took her hand. "Let me make up for my absence in your life, in Sheehin's life. I have two other sons here, Vik and Drigg, twenty and seventeen years old. They're practically men now. I could introduce Sheehin to them, to the rest of his family on Concordia, if you'll let me."

She had to meet his enthusiasm and mounting excitement with a firm shake of her head. Even if she wanted to bring their son to Concordia, she couldn't. "I'm sorry, but the Jedi are Sheehin's family."

He loosened his grip on her hand ever so slightly, and skepticism flickered in his eyes. "Are they, really? What does he think of Jedi life? Is he truly happy where he is now?"

"I'm sure that he is."

Vizsla laughed. "That's what you want to think. You may have fooled Krayn with your cover, Siri, but you can't fool me." He studied her with a calculating intensity that made her almost squirm in her seat. "I'm very good at telling if someone is lying. All the Jedi training in the galaxy can't completely erase the subtle signs of your body language. You're holding your gaze longer than you ought to. You're too tense to be telling the truth."

Siri saw that it was futile to argue. "I...I haven't seen Sheehin since I brought him to the Jedi Temple," she admitted. "The Council mandated that he could be trained and raised there on the condition that I don't contact him."

He let go of Siri's hand and leaned back in his seat, his mouth slightly hung open and brows knitted together. His disbelief transitioned from his face to his voice. "You, his mother, aren't even allowed to see him? Has he spent all these years not knowing who you are? What kind of a life is that? What if he's lonely and miserable at the Temple?"

Remembering Obi-Wan's words rekindled some of the tenacity in her. "Sheehin has friends and he is strong in the Force. I know that much."

That didn't seem to convince Vizsla. "He has never had a chance to experience life beyond the Jedi Temple. Let me give him that chance, Siri."

"No. Sheehin's place is with the Jedi."

Vizsla audibly breathed through his nose to let it out through his lips as a frustrated sigh. "And what about you, Siri? That fiery spirit you possessed when you were Zora...that had to be you unhinged, unhindered by the Jedi Order. You weren't afraid to push your weight around and beat down others to make your point. You never let someone get away with insulting you. You've punched out teeth and broken noses. You've held your own in fights against up to four of Krayn's thugs to prove that you meant business."

Disgust at herself rose along with the admiration he exuded for her. "You don't know me as well as you think you do. I had to do whatever it took to keep my cover. I'm not proud that I've done those things."

He smirked. "You say that, but your body betrays you. I've seen the savage victory in your eyes when you come out on top. You smile when blood is spilled."

Siri's knuckles went white as they dug into the tabletop. Did he know that she was Volvenger? Unlike her Jedi background, that part of her had never been revealed. But she knew that blood, the sight, smell, or taste of it, had something of a drug-like effect on her people, stirring them into a berserk frenzy. The most hardened Volvenger warriors would cut into their own skin, taste their own blood, to twist themselves into something like beasts that craved destruction. Because of her Jedi upbringing, because of her training to wield the lightsaber as her weapon of choice, and because any wound she'd inflict cauterized on contact, Siri was hardly exposed to much bloodshed. But working under Krayn, without her lightsaber, forced her to put up a different kind of fight. One that brought up a beastly, dark side of her that she detested and feared. She wanted to run out of the office.

Vizsla slid aside his glass and leaned toward her. "You are meant to be a warrior, Siri. Not a peacekeeper. Your destiny and talents are wasted among the Jedi. The Mandalorian way of life would suit you well."

Her heart skipped a beat and her mouth went dry. "You want me to become a Mandalorian?" The disbelief compelled her to stand, but before she could turn and leave, Vizsla rose with her and took her wrist, but not roughly.

"One does not have to be born in this system to don the helmet and armor," he said in a reasonable tone. "We welcome whoever has the heart and drive. That has always been our way."

Siri frowned. "But Duchess Satine, the New Mandalorians...they've put an end to that, have they not?"

"We need to have at least some kind of protective force here, don't you agree? Even the Duchess doesn't go anywhere without her elite Mandalorian Protectors."

Obi-Wan's warning about Mandalore's history came back to her, like a whisper in her ear. "I was told by the Prime Minister that all the warriors were exiled here. Have they really died out?"

"What remains are their descendants, including myself, and years of idleness don't sit well with us," Vizsla conceded. "We are eager to protect our people. With our system's neutrality, we are targets to the unwanted presence of both the Republic and the Separatists. They may not make a move now, but trust me, they will soon. Mandalore needs your strength, your fighting spirit. Never before have I met a stronger and fiercer woman than you, Siri."

Vizsla leaned in to plant a fervent kiss on her lips, prompting a small, muffled cry of surprise from her. His hand slid around the back of her neck to pull her into a deeper kiss. Siri tasted the scotch on his tongue. She had to press both palms on his chest to pull away from him. Lowering her head, she panted for breath and felt her cheeks flush. She knew that look he gave her. That same look from nearly thirteen years ago, before a bout of rough, mindless rutting in the shared quarters of a slave cargo ship. Now, that look told her of his heated desire to pull off her clothes, pin her to a wall or the desk, and ravage her in his office.

"I love you," he murmured. "Fight by my side. Become my partner."

Vizsla's confession, his raw plea, shook her. Siri felt her own body stir at the tension thick between them. Years ago, in her desperation to find some semblance of humanity in a world of cruel slavers, she might have returned his desire. This time she would not let that win her over. Siri squeezed her eyes shut and, like drawing in the Force, gathered up every fiber of her conviction before she could meet his beseeching gaze.

"I'm sorry, but I can't leave the Jedi," she said softly. "You must understand that. You're asking me to go down a path I can't walk on."

Vizsla pulled his hand from the back of her neck. "It seems that nothing I say will persuade you." Disappointment hung in his voice like a heavy weight. Then coldness put out the heat that had smoldered in his eyes. "I've underestimated your ties to the Jedi."

A sense of incoming danger flared from the back of her head. Siri whipped out her lightsaber at the same time Vizsla made a twist of his wrist, clashing with a black blade rimmed with white heat.

Her eyes flew wide. She had heard stories, rumors, but had never laid eyes on one until now. "A darksaber? But where did you—?"

"I've told you before, Siri, I'm part of Clan Vizsla." He pushed her back with the pitch-dark blade, and the blows they exchanged didn't interrupt what he said next, "In case your Jedi Masters hadn't schooled you on enough history, I'll have you know that my ancestors seized this weapon from the Temple during the days of the Old Republic. It has tasted plenty of Jedi blood ever since, and now it falls onto me."

Siri grit her teeth. She had fought against droids and deflected their blaster shots for so long that her prowess in lightsaber dueling lost its sharp edge. Vizsla was not Force-sensitive. He was not formally trained in lightsaber combat. She shouldn't be having a hard time dealing with him.

He spoke into his wrist comlink. "Vik, Drigg, immobilize her."

Two men in Mandalorian armor, one a head taller than the other, burst through the office door.

They propelled themselves too fast on their jetpacks for Siri to dodge in time. One of them tackled her off her feet, then the other kicked her hard in the gut, making her double over and collapse to the floor coughing and gasping. They hoisted Siri to her feet, each man grabbing her by the arm. She almost vomited everything she drank, but she held back the nausea with clenched teeth. She struggled to focus her bleary glare on Vizsla.

"Mandalorian armor..." she groaned. "Just like the saboteur who attacked the Republic cruiser..."

Vizsla took her chin into his hand, roughly this time. "I'm sorry, but you know too much. You won't cooperate and see things my way. I hate to see you go like this, but you leave me with no choice."

Too angry for words, Siri spat in reply, but Vizsla pulled away so her aim landed on the buckle clasped to his suit instead of his face.

"I can't let you get in the way of the Mandalorians' destiny and future. I love you, Siri, but I love Mandalore more."

A nod at his sons was the last thing Siri saw. She received a sharp cuff to the side of her head and blacked out.

* * *

Siri woke up to find her world upside down. Blood collected in her head and pounded against her skull. She really was upside down. Immobilized from head to toe by a golden force field. Judging from the darkness of her surroundings and the sharp smell of smelt ore, she guessed that she must be in one of the mines. Beside her, and still clad in Mandalorian armor, Vizsla's sons carried on their conversation, not noticing that she had stirred awake.

"Father cheated on Mother for this whore thirteen years ago," said the shorter one Siri assumed was the seventeen year-old, Drigg. "Feels good to be the ones finishing her off."

"Too bad Mother died just last month and can't get to see this," said the taller one she guessed was the twenty year-old, Vik.

Siri decided to announce her presence with her trademark sass. "Rotten apples don't fall far from the tree, I see."

"Shut up, bitch," Drigg snarled. The distinct T-shaped helmet probably hid a red-faced sneer.

She stung with humiliation—not from the name-calling, but from the memory of her arrogance when she had fought Vizsla. She had told Anakin that they should not underestimate the enemy. She should have listened to her own damn words. Now she was paying the price for her foolishness.

"Start the machine," Vik ordered his younger brother. "Time for the Jedi to meet her fatal accident."

From behind the controls, Drigg got the conveyor belt running. Ahead of Siri, a pair of ore smashers slammed together in ominous beats. Beyond that was the grinder.

She had to get the hell out of here. But how? There was no way she could—Suddenly she remembered the earpiece still attached to her. Thank the Force that Obi-Wan had come prepared. He always did. She took advantage of the whining and clunking of mining machinery, which would mask her covert communication with him from the Mandalorians. "Obi-Wan, come in," she hissed into the earpiece.

There was a crackle of static before he answered. "Siri, where are you? Governor Vizsla is meeting with the Duchess and me to receive the body of a deceased Concordian. It's sort of a—"

"We'll catch up later. If there _is_ a later." Siri certainly didn't have time for long stories, even if this one was only "sort of" long. "You're on Concordia now? Great. You're wondering where I am? I've been captured."

His reply was sharp with surprise. "What?"

"There's a tracking function on your comlink. If you're at the city hall, follow the tracker due east to my location."

"Siri, I shouldn't just run off from a diplomatic exchange—"

"It's extremely urgent," she pressed. "Being carried off to my death can't wait."

She heard the hiss of his sigh. "All right. I'm on my way."

Several minutes passed, and suddenly an alarm blared. Drigg looked up from the controls. "There's some kind of disturbance at the entrance."

"Let's check it out," Vik said.

Drigg groaned. "But I want to watch the Jedi scum get crushed."

Nevertheless, both young Mandalorians cocked their blasters and exited the room, leaving Siri alone with the conveyor belt. That had to be Obi-Wan causing a diversion. At least, that was what she hoped.

Obi-Wan's voice buzzed in her ear again. "Where exactly are you?" He asked.

"You're in the mine yet?" Siri replied. "Listen for the loud, clanging sound. That would be the machine that's about to smash me into bits!"

Obi-Wan burst into the room, and to Siri's surprise, with the Duchess not far behind him.

"I hope you know how to operate mining machinery," Siri said to both of them.

"We'll learn fast," Obi-Wan replied, which definitely didn't assure her. Once he and Satine reached the controls, they frantically scanned the array of commands displayed on the screen.

"Where's the off switch? Is it this one?"

"No, how about that one?"

"Not that, either. Try this one."

"That doesn't look like it turns anything off. The off switch has to be this one."

Siri was not amused by their trial-and-errors. "Now would be a good time to let me come out unscathed."

"Be patient," Obi-Wan called.

"I happen to be a bit short on patience right now," Siri retorted. Panic mounted in her with each second, each inch closer to the machines that would flatten and dismember her. Every fiber in her body screamed at her to run, but the force field kept her from moving at all.

"Turn it off already," she cried.

"We're trying," Obi-Wan and Satine shouted in simultaneous reply.

The two ore smashers closed in on Siri, but not completely, allowing her to slide through unharmed. She blew out a loud sigh of relief. Crisis averted. But another one awaited her. She was sliding right into the ore grinder. And she was still suspended upside down! Just as she was about to drop into her grisly demise, Obi-Wan pushed a metal barrel with the Force so it caught on the teeth of the cogs. Siri was released. She smoothly fell into a handstand on the barrel, then made a graceful leap off of it to upright herself and meet up with Obi-Wan and Satine, who stepped away from the controls.

"About damn time," Siri exclaimed. Then, as she noticed Satine, she made a small sheepish bow. "I'm so sorry. I'm very grateful that you came to my rescue."

The Duchess chuckled. "You're forgiven. I didn't expect you to be polite after getting out of that rather hairy situation."

Obi-Wan crossed his arms and aimed a crooked grin at Siri. "Looks like my intuition was wrong for once. I recall you saying that you would be the one to pull me out of hot water. However, it seems that I was the one to pull you out of the grinder. Literally."

She groaned at how the tables were turned. "That's _twice_ I owe you now."

He lost the grin at that. "I was just messing with you. Seriously, Siri, you owe me nothing. We're friends. We look out for each other. That's what friends do."

Satine looked between them with undisguised amusement. "Friends? You two banter more like an old married couple."

"For as long as we've known each other, that might as well be the case," Obi-Wan said dryly.

As the three took the turbolift up, he then looked aghast at Siri. "What in the galaxy is going on? I thought you were meeting up with the governor. Next thing I know, you end up in some mine about to be maimed."

She remembered him mentioning a dead Concordian. "I take it that your stroll through the garden ended badly?"

Obi-Wan sighed. "Unfortunately, yes."

"Well, my meeting with the governor ended badly, too. I also have sort of a long story to tell you."

But the brief turbolift ride didn't give Siri time to explain. As it opened with a metallic whoosh, Obi-Wan looked around frowning. "This is not the way we came in."

Three armored Mandalorians stood nearby. Whether two of them were Vik and Drigg, Siri couldn't tell. "Look there," one of them cried. "It's the Jedi."

A hail of blasterfire pierced through the night gloom. Obi-Wan, Siri, and Satine threw themselves behind boulders for cover.

"We're pinned down here," Obi-Wan said. "We'll have to stand and fight." Then he threw a pointed look at Satine. "Or, in your case, just stand." He burst out of hiding with his lightsaber, deflecting blaster shots and grappling with the Mandalorians when they got close enough for punching and kicking range.

Siri's hand flew to her lightsaber—kriff, it wasn't there. Vizsla's sons must have snatched it from her. She desperately wanted to join in and help Obi-Wan, but she was as much good as a sitting duck, with no way to defend herself and the Duchess from blasterfire.

Another Mandalorian joined the fray. Unlike the others, his dark helmet was emblazoned with three yellow marks like a trident, and a cape rippled from his right pauldron. Siri assumed that he must be the leader.

"I'll deal with this," he said. "Get to the ships and evacuate." The apparent leader strode up to the Mandalorian still on his knees, and pulled out a blaster. "Failure," he said, and shot the downed Mandalorian right in the chest, burning a hole through the back.

Obi-Wan, Siri, and Satine shared speechless horror at the blatant show of brutality. Then the leader pulled off his emblazoned helmet.

Obi-Wan stepped back in shock. "Governor Vizsla?"

Satine mirrored his surprise. "_You're_ in charge of Death Watch?"

Siri was confused. What was Death Watch? Seeing Vizsla in Mandalorian armor didn't blow her mind as it had with Obi-Wan and Satine. He had hinted at his strong tie to Mandalore's past.

"For generations, my ancestors fought proudly as warriors against the Jedi." Vizsla's gaze flickered over to Satine with sizzling disdain, and he pointed at her in accusation. "That woman tarnishes the very name Mandalorian."

Siri felt stupid for not sensing his hostility and animosity towards the Duchess during their meeting. She had interpreted his dismissal of the rumors to be support for New Mandalore. Then again, if Vizsla was good at detecting lies, he must be good at lying himself.

Vizsla unsheathed his darksaber and brandished it at Obi-Wan. "Defend the Duchess if you will."

A gleam at Vizsla's belt caught Siri's attention. Her lightsaber was hooked to it. She ground her teeth in frustration as she glared next at his darksaber. "Vizsla has my lightsaber," she told Obi-Wan. "Without it, I'd be done for against that darksaber."

Obi-Wan twirled his own weapon in a flourish to assume the Soresu opening stance. "Don't worry, Siri, I'll get it back for you."

Vizsla rushed forward to close the gap between them. Obi-Wan deftly countered every aggressive swing of Vizsla's. Blades of blue and black thrummed and crackled, vying for supremacy. Vizsla fired up the jetpack mounted on his back to gain aerial advantage, but Obi-Wan relied on the Force to effortlessly jump to his level, grab Siri's lightsaber, and kick him in midair. Vizsla sprawled onto the ground, his darksaber deactivated and spinning out of his grip.

Obi-Wan tossed the lightsaber over to Siri. "I believe this rightfully belongs to you."

She smirked as her violet blade burst into life. "Thanks, Obi-Wan. I'm not letting him get the best of me a second time."

Vizsla staggered to his feet. Beaten back by Obi-Wan, and now that Siri regained her lightsaber, the governor didn't look keen on fighting two Jedi at once. "Warriors, finish them," he ordered. The three men who flanked him bent over to unleash missiles from their jetpacks.

Obi-Wan and Siri barrel-rolled out of the way. The missiles zoomed past, only to loop back and home in on their targets. The two Jedi shot a glance at the shaft where the turbolift used to occupy. Unspoken understanding lanced between them in that split second. Obi-Wan grabbed Satine, carrying her bridal style, before he followed Siri in a mad dash for their only escape. They dropped into it just before the three missiles imploded overhead. Obi-Wan, Siri, and Satine sprawled in a heap on the mine's floor below.

Voices drifted down from above. "Should we go after them, sir?" A Death Watch member asked.

"No," came Vizsla's reply. "We'll catch up with the Duchess soon enough."

The trio, who missed a messy death by a hair, staggered to their feet in a daze.

"Is everyone all right?" Obi-Wan called. "No dislocations or broken bones?"

"I think I'm just bruised," Satine said. She winced as she massaged her sternum and patted dirt from her fine clothes.

Siri shook dust out of her hair and cracked her neck. "I'm a bit banged up, too, but I'll be fine."

"Good," Obi-Wan said. "Now let's get out of here before we run into more trouble with Death Watch."

"Since Vizsla was trying to get rid of me, he probably had his men confiscate or destroy my starfighter," Siri said. She tried to contact the astromech droid attached to her ship, but she got no response besides static. She had guessed correctly. Better to check now than waste time heading back just to find her only way out gone.

"Come with us on my shuttle," Satine offered to Siri. "That's how I brought Master Kenobi here to Concordia. There will be much more room for us than your single-pilot Jedi starfighter."

* * *

Fortunately, Satine's Aka'jor-class shuttle remained untouched. As they flew out of Concordia and back to Sundari, Obi-Wan and Siri took that time in between to catch up. Obi-Wan recounted his conversation with Satine at Peace Park, from being informed about the splinter faction Death Watch to the suicide of an unmasked Concordian who had bombed Memorial Shrine. The rumors that had first brought them to Mandalore were indeed untrue, but a new troubling matter took its place: the existence of a vocal minority who cried out for a return to Mandalore's warrior roots, and for the downfall of Satine's peaceful government.

Obi-Wan decided to leave out the little bicker he had with the Duchess. While he greatly admired her adherence to a life and society of non-violence, her criticism of the Jedi getting involved with the war was unwarranted, in his opinion. He used to think that himself, but after serving alongside brave, loyal, and caring clones, and saving worlds from the Separatists' cruel tyranny, the issue wasn't so black and white. Sometimes, especially when one was backed into a corner with no other options, one had to stand and fight to keep the peace. Diplomacy was preferable, but some situations called for justice and defense. For that reason, Jedi never had their lightsabers out of reach.

When it was Siri's turn to recount her visit to Concordia, she first asked Obi-Wan to speak with her privately, away from Satine. Befuddled, nonetheless he complied. Satine took no offense at the request and continued to pilot the shuttle. Siri's meeting with the governor must have turned out to be quite personal, he assumed.

Even at the back part of the shuttle, Siri took several moments to collect herself. Finally she said, "Pre Vizsla isn't just the leader of Death Watch, Obi-Wan. He was the undercover agent I had partnered with during my two years pretending to work under Krayn. Vizsla is Shodo. He is Sheehin's father."

Obi-Wan stared at her in disbelief, his mind reeling with the revelation. "That explains why he had requested to see you specifically," he managed to say.

Siri nodded. "He wanted me to leave the Jedi Order and become a Mandalorian." She looked away with her eyes narrowed. "Now I realize that by Mandalorian, he meant a member of Death Watch. And he wanted me to bring Sheehin. I said no to both. Vizsla didn't like that."

Obi-Wan rested a hand on her shoulder. "I'm proud of you, Siri. I never doubted for a moment that you would stay loyal to the Jedi."

She gave him a sad smile. "I have to admit it's hard sometimes. Moving away from the Order so Sheehin and I can be together as a family, so he can meet his father and older half-brothers...Vizsla made a tempting offer, but I wasn't tempted enough to accept it." Obi-Wan had been the one to personally see Sheehin. Knowing that, Siri held his hand that was still on her shoulder and squeezed it. "Tell me, Obi-Wan, I need a peace of mind. Does Sheehin look happy at the Temple? Was I right to give him the life of a Jedi? Or have I made the biggest mistake of my life?" Her voice wavered and broke at the last three words. She couldn't hold back the tears anymore.

Obi-Wan felt a sharp twinge in his chest. He hadn't seen her look this upset since Ferus left the Order. Since Ferus left her. "Imagine where he would be if you hadn't brought him to the Temple," he said softly. "Vizsla would have taken him. Would Sheehin be better off raised by a cruel, warmongering extremist? Would you let your son grow up to become that kind of person? Or get killed for failing to do so, like that Death Watch member Vizsla had shot?"

Siri didn't reply, but the answer to the questions he posed was written all over her pale, tightened face. Obi-Wan knew that look to be a resounding "no."

He reached out to brush away her tears with the sleeve of his robe. "You've never doubted yourself before. Don't start doing that now. You've made the right choice, Siri. You were right to refuse Vizsla when he wanted to take Sheehin away just after his birth. You were right to refuse him again when he wanted Sheehin brought to Mandalore. Your son is where he belongs."

She let out a shuddering breath and managed a small smile. "Thank you, Obi-Wan." Here was a man who, unlike Vizsla, had understanding and respect for her uncompromising alignment with the Jedi way. She loved that about him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think of the Shodo=Pre Vizsla twist? At first I made "Shodo" a one-time throwaway character who wouldn't appear again, but as I was brainstorming for TCW chapters, I thought it'd be interesting to bring him back and reveal him to be Pre Vizsla: a character in the new canon. I really liked writing this chapter, even better than Chapter 6. I love writing dysfunctional family drama. This won't be the last of Vizsla, Vik, and Drigg.
> 
> Up next: As Siri grapples with the revelation of Vizsla being Sheehin's father, she turns to Yoda for advice. Tasked with an undercover mission outside his comfort zone, Obi-Wan consults someone who has extensive experience with putting up a tough front.


	12. Counseling

Duchess Satine was bound for Coruscant on her elegant diplomatic spaceliner, the _Coronet_, so she could plead her case to the Senate. Now that those Death Watch radicals made it abundantly clear that their crosshairs were aimed at her head, she couldn't afford to go without protection. That was why the arrival of Anakin, and some troopers from the 212th and 501st, on Sundari didn't surprise Obi-Wan. They reunited to take on their next assignment: being bodyguards for the Duchess.

As for Siri, she would fly to Coruscant alone. She watched Satine board the _Coronet_ before turning to Obi-Wan. "Well, it looks like this is good-bye for now. Safe travels to you, Anakin, and the Duchess."

He clasped her hand. "Good-bye, Siri. I hope for an uneventful flight, but Anakin and I are ready in the likelihood that it isn't."

"The Duchess is in good hands," Siri said, and she winked. "Hopefully the worst fight that'll happen will be just between you and her."

Obi-Wan sighed. Though he hadn't mentioned the bickering at Peace Park, the rocky reunion with the Duchess had given Siri plenty of clues to pick up. "I do not enjoy quarreling with Satine, but I'll happily let it happen if that will be the only trouble onboard."

Turning away from Rex to stand between the two older Jedi, Anakin looked like he had just gotten the latest scoop on HoloNet tabloid gossip. "What's this I hear about my Master and the bone he's picking with a woman in politics? I just have to watch this drama unfold."

Obi-Wan just shot him an exasperated look.

"Count me out," Siri said. "I've had enough of my own drama to process and work through for at least a few days."

Playful glee slid into a mix of concern and curiosity on Anakin's face. "Oh? What happened with you?"

"I'll tell you later when I have time," she replied, then gestured with a jerk of her head to the Mandalorian Protectors climbing the ramp in single file. "Right now you have a Duchess to escort."

Siri took Obi-Wan's starfighter to head home alone. She needed time to sort out the whirlwind of recent events on Mandalore. She was glad that instead of her, Anakin had been sent to accompany and assist Obi-Wan on the _Coronet_. Those two, plus their men, would be more than enough to protect the Duchess, in Siri's opinion. The Council seemed to have agreed.

The quietness and simplicity of the Jedi Temple welcomed her with open arms. Siri thought about talking to her former Master, but her hopes were dashed when Mace Windu informed her that Adi was not available. The Tholothian Jedi was in the middle of a dogfight against Separatist ships over Lannik.

Siri then sought out Master Yoda, hoping he really was at the Temple and not merely present as a hologram. The Grand Master had his own troops to lead and would conduct operations offworld on occasion. Fortunately she found him presiding over a Council meeting, and she waited outside the chamber until the holograms of other Council members dissipated and she could stride in.

More diminutive than ever in the yawning roundness of the Council chamber, Yoda regarded her approach with a slight upward prick of his ears.

"Returned from Mandalore, hmm? Much on your mind, young Siri? Very troubled, you seem."

She bowed low before him. "Yes, Master." She knew he would sense that before she even opened her mouth. "Might I have a private word with you in one of the meditation rooms? I hope I'm not bothering you."

He chuckled as he climbed out of his round seat. "Bothering me, you are not. To always make time for my fellow Jedi in need, I try."

Siri followed Yoda into a nearby meditation room, where blinds narrowed Coruscant's sunlight into slits, and shadows draped over the floor and seats like a calming blanket. She settled down across from him, and Yoda motioned to her with his gimer stick.

"What thoughts have you to share with me, hmm?"

She took a deep breath, feeling the weight of recent events sitting heavily on her shoulders. "During my visit to Mandalore, to Concordia in particular, I encountered someone I never thought I would see again. It's public knowledge now that Pre Vizsla is the leader of Death Watch: that traditionalist warrior faction opposing Duchess Satine's government. He was also the undercover agent I had worked with to take down Krayn's slaving operations. Pre Vizsla is the father of my son."

Yoda's long ears drooped and he raised a clawed hand to his chin. "An unsettling revelation, indeed. Why this troubles you, I understand."

Siri felt her ears grow hot, and she wanted to drag a palm down her face. Vizsla mentioned having two other sons, currently twenty and seventeen years old. That meant they had to be around seven and four when she got involved with Vizsla. And if their mother had died only a month ago...now Siri could see why Vizsla had waited all these years until recently to contact her. Small wonder that his sons hated her guts. Maybe they hated their own father, too. This affair, which just kept getting messier, would be something that HoloNet would jump all over and blow up into a proper scandal. Now Siri wanted to crawl under a rock. "I had slept with the enemy—literally."

Yoda maintained a straight face despite the embarrassment that emanated from her in heated waves. "Know at first, you did not. He had asked to meet you, I recall."

"Yes, Master. He wanted me to defect from the Jedi and take Sheehin with me." At the knitting of Yoda's wrinkled brow, Siri quickly went on, "I refused, of course. If Obi-Wan and the Duchess hadn't saved me in the nick of time, Vizsla would have succeeded in putting me to death on Concordia."

"Commend you for your decisions, I do."

The corners of her mouth twitched up for a moment as she chuckled through tight lips. "It was not that difficult to turn down his offers. I feel no attachment towards Vizsla, despite our history. Knowing that he is a violent terrorist makes it even easier for me to want nothing to do with him. He said that he loved me, but I think he loved me more for my potential to contribute to his goal...his goal of reclaiming Mandalore's old way of life."

"Wise of you to realize that, young Siri. Agree with you, I do. Love and hunger for power, Vizsla has. Wrong of him to assume that the woman he loved is still alive."

"You mean Zora."

"Mmm." Yoda nodded. "Enamored with the image you projected, he was. Believed in an illusion, he had."

Siri frowned. "Was I really just pretending? That time working under Krayn had brought out the worst in me. Master, you haven't seen the things I've done, the things I've felt." She shuddered at the blood-tinged memories. "I took joy in inflicting violence on others. Vizsla remembered and admired me for that. What if that part of me is just lying dormant, waiting to spring out again, like some ugly, terrible beast?"

"Referring to your Volvenger heritage, you are."

Siri nodded. "Vizsla said that I was meant to be a warrior. I don't want to believe that. But what if he's right? The Mandalorians are just as much a proud warrior race as the Volvengers. How long has it been since there has been a Mandalorian Jedi? Not in over a thousand years." That Jedi in question, in fact, had been Tarre Vizsla: the ancestor of Pre Vizsla who had forged that one-of-a-kind darksaber. "Mandalorians—at least, the Mandalorians before Duchess Satine's rule—lived by a code so different from the Jedi that any one of them responding to the will of the Force and joining the Order were few and far in between. It's the same case with Volvengers. Correct me if I'm wrong, Master, but I am the first known Jedi to come from Volveng."

"Wrong, you are not," Yoda replied.

"I come from a culture that thrives on war and bloodshed. Even if I was taken away before I could be raised in that culture, following the Jedi path doesn't come to me easily." Siri folded her legs tighter, propped her elbows on her knees, and stared into the lines of her palms. "Sometimes I don't feel like a real Jedi," she murmured. "I feel like an imposter. Like I shouldn't be here." Siri shook her head. "I should be over that. I thought that I could bury it once and for all, but after meeting with Vizsla, reuniting with him..."

"A struggle that ebbs and flows, it is. When it flows, let it flow through you. Push it and bury it away, you should not. Only more pain, fighting it will bring you." Yoda closed his eyes and turned up his hands. "Accept everything you did, everything you are."

Siri tried to mirror his relaxed posture, his serene and open state of mind. What she had done, what she had felt during her time undercover were real. She couldn't deny that. But her Jedi training was real, too. She couldn't deny that, either. When she stilled herself, enough to better hear her heartbeat, better feel the blood pulse through her veins, she acknowledged them. As she breathed in and out, she felt the whisper of the Jedi tunic slide against her skin with every heave of her chest. She took comfort in that feeling. Her roots and upbringing were both there. She had to accept the existence of both.

But which call to answer, which one to follow...through the stillness of the meditation room, she sensed the Force's call to her stronger than the primal howling in her blood. That reassured her. She was capable of great violence, yes, and had even enjoyed it. But she knew that enjoyment to be a rush of instinct, and her heart and mind were taught to reject indulging in that instinct. It would be a constant battle for as long as she lived, but at least she was taught how to restrain and reprove that dark side of herself whenever it wanted to rise up in rebellion.

"Vizsla was wrong about me," she murmured, more to herself than to Yoda. "I am a Volvenger, but I am also a Jedi. I was brought from my homeworld by the will of the Force, and I belong here." She opened her eyes and slipped out of the meditative position. "I feel more at peace with myself, Master. Thank you."

Yoda returned his upturned palms to let them rest on his knees. "Glad to see you less troubled, I am. Back to your confident self, you seem."

Then Siri thought of her son, who seemed much less so, according to Obi-Wan. "Sheehin will have it twice as hard as I do, if he hasn't already. He is half-Mandalorian and half-Volvenger. Descended from two warrior races." She swallowed hard and suddenly felt several years younger before Yoda, like a troublemaking girl instead of a responsible woman. "Master, I have a confession to make. A few months ago, while I was stationed on Giju with Sha Koon, I had asked Obi-Wan to check on Sheehin. He has known about my son before he joined the Jedi Council."

She expected Yoda to lower his ears and flatten his brow into a stern look. Instead he merely nodded, as if it came as no surprise to the sage Grand Master. "Great trust you have in Obi-Wan," he remarked.

Emboldened and validated by what he said, she went on, "He has always been gentle, understanding, and patient with me. I feel like I could trust him with my darkest secrets, and he would listen. He is my best friend."

"And friends you remain?"

"Yes, Master." She replied with a little more force than necessary.

Yoda, along with Qui-Gon, was one of the few who knew about her and Obi-Wan's acknowledgement of their love for each other. Both senior Masters had advised them to sever that romantic tie. Yoda had said it out of voicing a tenet of the Code. Qui-Gon had said it out of sympathy. Not many knew, but he too had been romantically involved with a fellow Jedi. Tahl. Siri's memories of the blind Noorian Jedi and Bant's Master were hazy, but she could never forget how Qui-Gon losing Tahl had compelled him to attempt saving her and Obi-Wan from the same painful fate.

Siri tried not to ball her hands into fists over her lap. "Obi-Wan and I had promised to never speak of our love again, and we've kept that promise for years. There's no reason to doubt our dedication to the Jedi Order."

"Believe you, I do. Committed to the Jedi way, you two are. Broken rules, you have not, in asking Obi-Wan to check on your child. A member of the Council, he is. And made contact with Sheehin, you have not." Yoda raised a hand to point a claw at her. "Admonish you, I will not. But caution you, I will. Refrain from being further informed of your son's affairs. For your sake, I say this. Continue to be safe and in training, he will. A mind clear of distractions and worries, you must have. Focus on your efforts in protecting the Republic, you must."

She bent towards him in deference. "I understand, Master. I never intended to have Obi-Wan check on my son regularly, but just for that one time."

Yoda nodded, appearing assured by that, then he said, "Likely for you to cross paths with Vizsla once more, it is. A personal conflict for you, it will undoubtedly be. A question for you, I have. Willing to bring him down in battle, are you?"

Siri didn't bother to hide her apprehension and displeasure as she locked gazes with Yoda. She didn't look forward to another encounter with Vizsla. They would not only cross paths, but cross blades. Terrorist leader he may be, but he was also the father of her son. She would take no joy in cutting him down. But for the sake of keeping the peace, and as a Jedi, Siri knew what she ought to say, what she ought to do. "If the need to take him out comes down to me, I will do what I must, Master."

"It may not happen, perhaps, but ready for that event, you must be." Yoda tilted his head to the side. "More to say, have you, young Siri?"

She rose to fold her sleeves over her midriff and bow at the waist. "No, that will be all. Thank you again for your time, Master."

Yoda didn't follow her out of the meditation room, but remained inside as he carried on with contemplating alone. Siri threw a glance over her shoulder before leaving the room. What struggles, failures, and flaws the Grand Master could be striving to give up to the Force, Siri did not know. No one knew. He seemed to be the perfect Jedi who could do no wrong. Then again, what did she know? She felt like she had enough secrets and hardships to juggle on her plate, but Yoda could be carrying centuries worth of them, for all she knew. He could simply be better at hiding them than she did.

* * *

'Duchess Satine either has terrible luck, or not the greatest talent in surrounding herself with trustworthy allies,' Obi-Wan thought.

Of course he wouldn't dare say that aloud to the Duchess. But he could not overlook at how almost every high-ranked Mandalorian politician wanted Satine disposed of. First it was Pre Vizsla, the governor of Concordia, then Tal Merric, the Kalevalan Senator responsible for stowing assassin droids aboard the _Coronet_. Who could be next? Prime Minister Almec? Everyone seemed suspect now. Satine had to tread carefully. Her staunch dedication to her system's pacifistic stance seemed to attract more enemies than allies.

No sooner had Obi-Wan protected her from death by droids on the _Coronet_, he had to protect her again on Coruscant when she was framed for the creation of Death Watch. He might as well be her most reliable bodyguard, and he wasn't even Mandalorian. No, he considered himself a good friend of hers, a sincere supporter of her cause. He really did want her new peaceful government to succeed. He saw firsthand how Mandalore nearly tore itself apart during the civil war. He'd hate to see Satine's efforts crumble and collapse into the chaos and violence she feared and detested.

He strode with Satine down the hall after their meeting with Chancellor Palpatine, escorting her to the _Coronet_.

"Mandalore won't be occupied, after all." The relief was evident in Satine's voice, and a rare smile graced her face. "Frankly, it seems too good to be true that we got this whole mess sorted out."

"It must be by the will of the Force," Obi-Wan couldn't help saying. He could tell that Satine didn't understand the full meaning behind that Jedi observation. Nevertheless, her good mood couldn't be dashed.

Satine made a small wave of her hand. "Whatever you want to call it—luck, good fortune, the Force—something made everything fall into place quite nicely. My name has been cleared, I escaped yet another attempt at my life—" At this, she rapped her knuckles on the wall. "Not wood, but that'll have to do," she said as a low quick aside, then she went on, "Most of all, the true, full recording of Jarec's support for me and my intentions has been exposed to the Senate. I figured that Death Watch would count on Republic occupation to strike. Now with the Senate revoking their decision on Mandalore's occupation, Death Watch wouldn't be making a bold move anytime soon."

"I think you're right," Obi-Wan replied. He lifted his gaze to the ceiling and stroked his bearded chin. "They will probably evacuate to another base to elude capture. Will you send your forces after them?"

Satine considered this in brief silence. "If they leave the Mandalore system, no. I don't want my people spread thin in searching the galaxy for those terrorists' whereabouts. I do, however, want to focus my efforts in the event that they dare to come back. My people can't stand idly by and forget the threat looming over their heads. They must be ready for an attack." She winked at him. "A wise man once told me that the best defense is a swift offense."

Obi-Wan couldn't help a smirk. "You flatter me, Duchess."

They emerged from the Galactic Senate Rotunda to where the _Coronet_ awaited at the loading dock.

"I keep thinking about how your fellow Jedi—Siri, is it?—met with Vizsla before he showed his true colors," said Satine. "Any idea as to why he wanted to see her? Given his hatred of Jedi, his family's pride of fighting them, I find it even more odd that he had wanted a cordial meeting with an enemy. It's like a criminal inviting over the police for a chat and tea. He must have wanted her dead only after she found out his ties to Death Watch."

"Your observations are right on the mark, Duchess." Obi-Wan thought of how shaken Siri had looked in the Aka'jor class shuttle, how pale and shallow-breathed she was when she had divulged the news to him. "I know the reason behind the meeting, but out of honoring Siri's wishes, I don't think that it's my place to tell you. I apologize."

Satine pursed her lips. "Hmm. Perhaps it's not my place to ask." She left it at that.

Siri's connection to Sheehin was to be kept a secret among the Council and Anakin. Satine may not be bound to that rule, since she was not in the Jedi Order, but Obi-Wan still felt that it was not at his discretion to share Siri's personal business without her permission.

"I regret not having much of a chance to get acquainted with Siri," Satine said, "but from my short time with her, she seems like a spirited woman."

"Spirited, indeed." Obi-Wan chuckled. "You disapprove of my involvement with the war already, despite my aversion to fighting...you would outright not like the way Siri prefers to settle things with a good fight."

A deep frown briefly added a few years to her face. "I don't like violence of any kind, but a woman who shows no shame with partaking in violence is especially unseemly. My sister, for example..." The ornaments dangling Satine's headdress swung with the shake of her head. "Never mind. I'm sure that Siri has a good heart. I trust your judgment in who you consider your friends, Obi-Wan."

He smiled at her, unable to hide how pleased her remarks made him.

* * *

Obi-Wan wouldn't hear about Death Watch in a while until Anakin's Padawan returned exhausted and frazzled from her unexpected detour to a snowy Outer Rim world called Carlac. Ahsoka was supposed to have Lux Bonteri, a junior senator she had befriended, escorted to Coruscant to receive amnesty. Instead, Lux's vendetta against Count Dooku for his mother's murder got her entangled with Death Watch.

In the privacy of Ahsoka's quarters, after her formal report to the Jedi Council, Obi-Wan and Anakin got to listen to the more informal version—her rant, rather—as she wrestled with the whirlwind of feelings that would have looked unbecoming before the Council.

Ahsoka paced up and down, throwing up her hands every few seconds. "We wouldn't have gotten into all that trouble if Lux had just listened to me! You don't make friends and reason with terrorists. I told him that a million times. But did he listen? No! And that leader of Death Watch..." The young Togruta punctuated her trailing off with a sound of disgust. "Pardon my Huttese, Masters, but he's a huge heaping pile of bantha poodoo. His group kidnapped girls to make them their servants, and pretended to keep his word when the rest of the village wanted those girls home. He stabbed an innocent girl in the back and torched her village just because he could. He's no honorable Mandalorian warrior. He's a thug and a brute who likes to push his weight around. Lux came to his senses, then, but too bad it came too late when I got captured." Ahsoka went on to animatedly describe her and Lux's narrow escape from Death Watch's clutches.

Anakin held up his cybernetic hand to interrupt her in mid-sentence. "Whoa, snips, I have to stop you there. You're telling me that you actually decapitated four Mandalorians in a single stroke?"

Ahsoka raised her hands in defense. "What was I supposed to do? Just sit there and let them shoot me?"

Obi-Wan aimed a brief pointed look at Anakin. "Sounds a lot like someone I know. Like Master, like Padawan."

Anakin flattened his lips to a tight thin line. His decision to stab Tal Merric in the back still rubbed him the wrong way, despite his justification about acting to keep the _Coronet _from imploding. After helping Satine sort out matters with the Senate, Obi-Wan drew Anakin aside for a long, stern lecture on handling Tal Merric.

"You cut a Sith lord _in half_," Anakin had retorted. "Sent him flying down a reactor shaft in two pieces. If we're going to compare which death is more gruesome, yours would win by a long stretch."

"I don't recall discussing a contest on whose kill was the gorier one," Obi-Wan had retorted back. "Our situations are completely different. I had to kill that Sith lord in a duel to the death. At least you were in a position for negotiation. What I'm upset about is your mishandling of that position. You could have simply disarmed Merric. You didn't have to run him through. On top of that, the Duchess watched you kill him. I imagine her view on Jedi has dipped to an all-time low now."

Despite his deep disappointment that Anakin hadn't conducted himself like a Jedi, Obi-Wan couldn't stay angry with his former apprentice for long. Anakin was just trying to do what he thought was right. Afterwards, Obi-Wan tried to soften the blow of his earlier lecture by acknowledging those good intentions. "You've saved many lives on the _Coronet_. Good job on that, Anakin. Merric indeed would have blown up the entire ship if he had the chance. Preventing his death would have been the perfect outcome to our flight, but what's done is done."

His comparison between Anakin and Ahsoka now was meant to be a light joke, but Obi-Wan had to admit that his dry sense of humor didn't always sound off on the right note to others. Especially to Anakin.

From his cross-legged position, Obi-Wan leaned forward with interest, putting more pressure from his elbows on his knees. "Ahsoka, tell us more about the state and activities of Death Watch. They had gone off the radar and no one has heard of them in a while. We need to know what they're up to."

At first Ahsoka launched into a detailed description of their base, from the tents and snow to landmarks amid the craggy terrain that hemmed in the camp, but Obi-Wan had to cut her off gently. "I'm sorry, Ahsoka, I meant to ask about their morale and resources. Now that a Jedi had seen their camp on Carlac, they will likely move elsewhere."

The Togruta Padawan shrank a little. "Oh. Sorry, Master. Well, they didn't seem to be in the best shape. Not in shape to launch a proper coup on Mandalore, in my opinion. They looked like a ragtag bunch of thieves, living off just the helmets on their heads, the jetpacks on their backs, and whatever they could steal from a nearby village. They were bullies taking out their frustration on droids for target practice and village girls they had kidnapped. Unfortunately I didn't get any idea where they would be moving next."

"The information you've provided is still valuable," Anakin said. He reached over to pat her shoulder. "Good job, my young Padawan."

Happiness at his praise shone through the exhaustion on her face.

"I'll relay your findings to the Duchess of Mandalore," Obi-Wan said to Ahsoka. "Even if Death Watch aren't an immediate threat, she needs to know their status."

"Death Watch, sounds like a nasty bunch," Anakin remarked. "I haven't met any so far, but I first heard about them from Siri." He waited until he and Obi-Wan left Ahsoka's quarters so he could go on in a confidential voice. "She told me earlier that its leader is the father of her son. My Padawan just came back after surviving a scrape against him. How wild is that?"

"It's a small galaxy," Obi-Wan said with a shrug.

"How did Siri get involved with a man like him?" Anakin asked in disbelief.

"She didn't know he was a Mandalorian, just as he hadn't known she was a Jedi."

"Hmm, makes sense. Otherwise they would have been at each other's throats, or on opposite sides of that slave cargo ship."

"Precisely." To Obi-Wan, the thought of a Mandalorian and a Jedi, historically mortal enemies, sleeping together would have been ironically hilarious if that Jedi in question hadn't been his best friend, whose shame and embarrassment he had sensed when she revealed the connection between Vizsla and Sheehin.

"I'm not ashamed about having a child, though," Obi-Wan remembered Siri saying. "He is a gift I don't regret receiving. If I could have the chance to see him again, that's what I would tell him."

* * *

Obi-Wan emerged from the Council chamber striving to maintain the image of composure. Yoda and Mace Windu had just tasked him with a mission unlike many others before. Multiple times he denied that he would be the one to undertake it, but the senior Jedi Masters were adamant about their choice. He sought out Siri, who was brushing up on Ataru kata in a sparring ring. When she noticed him, she deactivated and stowed away her lightsaber.

"Obi-Wan, what's up?"

He hoped that she wouldn't sense the worry and wariness brewing within him. "Hello, Siri. I'm here to humbly ask for your expertise."

She raised her eyebrows at him. "Expertise? You are two years my senior, and a member of the Jedi Council, on top of that. What do you have to learn from me?"

"One must always keep a mind open on the lifelong journey to learn and improve," he said modestly.

"Spoken like a true Jedi, Obi-Wan." She sank into the spectator bench and wiped off sweat with her sleeve. "All right, then. Ask away."

Obi-Wan joined her on the bench. "Allow me to pose a hypothetical situation. Say if I were to go undercover as a criminal, perhaps to infiltrate a gang or a crime syndicate..."

Siri cut him off with a bout of laughter. "You, pose as a criminal? That's rich. I'd sooner see a Hutt pull off a handstand."

"This is strictly hypothetical," he retorted. "For fun."

She pressed a palm over her mouth in a visible effort to restrain her mirth. "Sorry for interrupting. Go on."

He cleared his throat. "As I was saying...usually I'm called to carry out a diplomatic mission, but I have to be ready for any kind of assignment. Some matters just can't be resolved with civil negotiation. I might be called to blend in among smugglers, mercenaries, or bounty hunters, and I don't have the experience to pull off the act."

"You've gone undercover before. It's not like it's a completely foreign concept to you."

"True, I recall doing a few undercover missions by your side." He smiled. "Remember that time on Romin? When we had to catch that mad scientist Jenna Zan Arbor, and pose as the Slam Gang?"

Siri pulled a face. "I remember that skimpy dress I had to wear. There was no room to even hide my lightsaber. You had to carry mine! I will never show that much skin around again." Then she smirked. "You were also a victim to poor taste in fashion."

It was Obi-Wan's turn to make a face. "I felt like such an idiot wearing that veda coat and leather boots," he muttered. While Siri had to pretend being Valadon, the resident seductress of the gang, he had to pose as Roper Slam, the con man, who populated his wardrobe with clothes that a drunk clown would wear. "I couldn't even take myself seriously wearing those ridiculous things. I'm amazed that we had kept up appearances for as long as we did. You were quite the natural, talented flirt, if I recall."

She rolled her eyes. "You recall wrongly. It took every fiber of my being to push back my dignity and muster every bit of feminine charm that I could. Not that I thought I had any."

"Oh, you had a healthy amount. You won over the hearts of Romin's dictator and that Phlog guard easily enough. What was that you said to the Phlog when he tried to act tough with you?" Obi-Wan heightened the pitch of his voice to a shoddy attempt at femininity. "'Oooh. Is that a threat?'"

She glared lightsabers at him. "I said it before, and I'll say it now: If you want to stay alive, never make that sound again."

Obi-Wan bit back a laugh, smoothly rose from the bench, and spun around to avoid a punch on the arm. Or worse, the infamous Siri headlock. "Remember the time we had to rescue Anakin and Ferus from that awful school on Andara, and we pretended to be king and queen so we could 'tour' the school?"

That made Siri stop scowling as she snickered. "How could I forget? You didn't have to pretend sounding like a king. Your concern for our nonexistent 'royal, regal sons' enrolling in that school was quite convincing."

Obi-Wan's neck prickled with embarrassment, yet he enjoyed reliving these memories of their prior capers with her. "I have to admit that my grasp of vocabulary and articulation is much looser under pressure."

"Good. That's what you want when you have to pretend being a despicable life-form." Siri waved a hand to gesture at him from head to toe. "That proper, polite, cultured demeanor of yours...drop it. You can pick it back up later when you're done. It won't fly when you're skulking about in the underworld pretending to be the likes of them."

"I figured as much," he said dryly.

"Think of it like wearing a second skin." She too rose from the bench to point a finger over his heart. "You've got your core, your Jedi core. Keep it close and never let go. It's always there. But it can't show. You have to hide it under a layer of another skin. A very thick layer, if you want to be convincing."

Obi-Wan nodded. "All right. Good analogy."

"Breaking into a gang, syndicate, what have you, is the hardest part. They're always going to be skeptical of new meat. You've got to prove it to them that you can be part of the group and aren't someone to mess with. If they push, you push back harder."

How far did she have to push? Obi-Wan had to know. "Siri, have you ever killed anyone when you were undercover?"

She stiffened and looked away. After a lengthy pause, she replied in a low voice, "Yes, I have."

"How?"

Siri settled back into the bench and fixed her gaze at her feet. "It was a sort of initiation into Krayn's ranks. He wanted to be sure that he got true and blue cold-blooded scum working under him. I had to fight one-on-one against an Elomin. No weapons of any kind—no blasters, not even knives, definitely no lightsaber—just our fists, feet, and teeth. A laser tether between our torsos kept us from running away and bailing out on the fight. You could only get free when you kill or get killed. I was hoping to hit my opponent real hard in the head, knock him out good, make it _look_ like I killed him."

"Since you confirmed killing someone, I assume that hope was dashed?"

She chuckled wryly. "Oh, yes. Big mistake. Have you ever tried punching an Elomin head? It's all horns and tough skull. I ended up cutting and fracturing a few knuckles." The smirk died on her face. "Like I said, it's either kill or get killed. In the heat of that fight, I saw only one way out. I won by choking that Elomin. No, not a Force choke. The kind of choke anyone with a pair of legs could do. I locked his neck between my legs, gave a good twist on the floor, and held them there until he stopped kicking. I didn't need Force sensitivity to feel him die, Obi-Wan. I heard every gasp he made. Every kick of his legs sent little shockwaves up my own. Krayn enjoyed the show and took me in. I'm glad I didn't have to fight the Wookiee I ended up working with, or I would have been eviscerated. And I didn't have to kill anyone else after my 'initiation,' thank the Force. Just a lot of bullying slaves around to keep up the act. Still, I'd been a bitch to them. They hated me even after my cover was blown. It's only thanks to Anakin that they didn't tear me apart when they revolted against Krayn."

Obi-Wan didn't dare interrupt her as she shared what must have been hard to admit. When she fell silent, he reestablished his place next to her on the bench and touched her shoulder. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up bad memories."

To his surprise, Siri gave him a wry smile. "The past is in the past. I can't change what had happened. What I can do is take a lesson away from that. What I learned is that I made the best choices I could to stay alive and fulfill my mission. A dead Jedi's no good to anyone. Except to a Sith lord, maybe."

"I asked because I thought you might have some guidance for me if I were to face the same situation."

"I hope you don't find yourself backed into that corner. If you have the choice, if there's another way out, take it. Inflicting cruel and unusual death is not the Jedi way. If you can choose, Obi-Wan, choose life."

He nodded slowly to let the advice sink in. It wasn't new to him, but he imagined that under circumstances of being among the worst kinds of character, it was much easier said than done. "If it's not too much trouble, Siri, I'd like to you to show me how to walk the walk, so to speak."

"How about this? Since neither of us are deployed with our clones in the next week, how about we spend that week pretending we're not Jedi, but scum of the galaxy? I don't want to bore you with lectures. Acting it out is the best way to learn, in my opinion. Think of it like a game. We play off of each other. Try not to drop your act." Cheekiness flashed in her blue eyes, and her voice suddenly sharpened beyond recognition. "From now on I'll be Zora, slave trader and Krayn's right-hand woman. And you?"

Taken aback by the edgy ferocity in her voice, Obi-Wan struggled for a story. "Um, er, I'm Ben, a smuggler. I...I used to smuggle spice, but I'm looking into making big money in the slave trade." He almost gave away the alias he had to assume for his upcoming mission. He would be an idiot if he did. "Wait, Siri—er, Zora, how will I know if I'm doing something right or wrong? You have to give me a sign."

"How about a wink if you're doing something right?"

"Then it'll look like you're flirting with me." Obi-Wan couldn't help slipping in a sassy question: "Am I talking to Zora or Valadon?"

This time Siri's fist darted out so fast that he couldn't dodge the punch to his arm. "This is Zora talking," she snapped back. "How about I punch you for doing something wrong, and give you a nod if you do something right?"

Obi-Wan ruefully rubbed his sore arm. "A nod of approval. That will do. A punch...well, if anything else is worse, I'll take the punch." He was determined to play this game right. His next mission depended on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The School of Fear and Changing of The Guard, which entail the undercover events I referenced in this chapter, are my favorite Jedi Quest books. The mix of teasing and bickering between Obi-Wan and Siri in those books is priceless. It's a shame that series wasn't adapted into animation or comics.
> 
> Up next: Obi-Wan's mission to go undercover as the bounty hunter Rako Hardeen is juxtaposed with flashbacks of Siri's time as Zora.


	13. How to Wear a Second Skin

Speeders and transports rushed far overhead, forming glowing streaks through Coruscant's night sky. Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Ahsoka walked together on their way back to the Jedi Temple.

"What's the big rush?" Anakin asked Obi-Wan.

"The Council called for an emergency meeting."

Anakin stifled a yawn. "Emergency or not, it'll be a long, boring debate either way."

Ahsoka shot him a raised eyebrow. "Would you rather they call you in to train younglings?"

"Are you crazy? Just handling you is enough for me."

Obi-Wan didn't get involved in the banter between the two younger Jedi. Instead he quietly felt for his surroundings, for the opportune moment. He could feel the fine hairs along the back of his neck rise, feel his muscles coil up like Anacondas poised to strike. Anticipation was never a good feeling for him. Breathe, relax, he told himself. He had to trust in the directives he had to follow, and trust in the resources he was given.

The tingling sensation along his neck sharpened into a prickle as he could sense the crosshairs aimed at him from behind. Obi-Wan timed a smooth sidestep to the right just quick enough for the shot to miss him. The three Jedi scattered to hide behind some crates ahead.

"Where's that shot coming from?" Obi-Wan asked, though he knew very well the answer.

Ahsoka peeked around the crates for a better look, and pointed. "A sniper, up there!"

Through the nighttime gloom, Obi-Wan could make out the armed assailant. He knew the face obscured beneath the helmet. That face would soon be his.

The authority in Obi-Wan's voice commanded his fellow Jedis' attention. "Here's the plan: Anakin, flank him on the right. Ahsoka, cover the lower streets. I'll go after him."

The sniper disappeared out of sight from his vantage point. The trio of Jedi activated their lightsabers, and to Obi-Wan's satisfaction, Anakin and Ahsoka complied with his orders without objection. Powered by Force jumps, they made quick work of scaling up to the rooftops and took off in hot pursuit of the sniper. Anakin and Ahsoka soon diverged from Obi-Wan's sight as they split up. Obi-Wan kept his eyes on the sniper, who paused from running without Anakin and Ahsoka's knowledge to cock his rifle and scope his surroundings.

Anakin's voice burst through Obi-Wan's comlink. "I lost him! Any sight of him, Master?"

He heard Anakin loud and clear, but didn't respond. He couldn't. Not for what would have to come next. 'Time to be an actor, not a Jedi,' he thought. He drew in a deep breath. Against all common sense and seasoned battle instincts, he stepped out of hiding. Straight into the sniper's line of fire. He saw the flash first, heard the shot next, then felt it strike his chest.

Though the impact was nothing more than that of a stun blast, Obi-Wan yelped as if in pain, and tipped over the edge of the rooftop. A bunch of crates broke his fall. Ahsoka, who was sweeping the lower streets as she was told, skidded to a halt as she saw him fall right in front of her. Before he closed his eyes to feign death, the last thing he saw was horror stamped on her face. The last thing he heard was Anakin calling his name, a cry of rage and anguish that sent a pang through Obi-Wan's artificially stilled heart.

"I'm sorry, Anakin," he almost whispered. And before he slipped beyond the realm of consciousness, he thought, 'I'm sorry, Siri.'

* * *

_As the hallway opened up to a round intersecting room in the Jedi Temple, Siri abruptly stopped, schooling her features to a tight jaw and cheeks hot with indignity. Her master took several more steps ahead before she too stopped, and turned with a raised eyebrow._

_"Siri? Come along, now. We must report to the Jedi Council."_

_"You can go there and tell them yourself." She raised her voice enough to attract surprised, scandalized stares from nearby Jedi._

_Adi kept her composure, though she tucked her hands into the opposite sleeves and a stern tone sharpened her voice. "Do not make further embarrassment of yourself, my young apprentice. You've made quite enough blunders on our mission today."_

_"I wouldn't have messed up if you kept holding me back. I was trying to do the right thing, but you wouldn't let me."_

_"What you think may be the right thing wasn't the wisest move." Adi kept her gaze pinned on Siri, not at all acknowledging how surrounding passerbys stopped in mid-stride and turned heads. "I gave you orders, you had someone to protect, and you did a disservice to everyone involved by disobeying me."_

_Encouraged by the attention her outburst was drawing, Siri went on with no signs of backing down as she flung out her arms. "All these rules. All these regulations. I feel chained up like an animal. How am I supposed to become a self-sufficient Jedi Knight if I'm being pushed and ordered around all the time?"_

_Adi's eyes narrowed to blue slits. "That's enough, Siri. Your disrespectful conduct is unacceptable. Say no more and follow me to the Council at once."_

_Siri stood her ground. "I've had enough. I'm through with you, and I'm through with this whole blasted Jedi Order." Ending the escalating conflict on that harsh note, she spun on her heel and turned to storm down in the opposite direction, away from the Council chamber, the obedience to her master, and headed straight to her quarters. No one made a move to stop her. Siri heard the faintest huff of exasperation from Adi, and retreating footsteps, as her master chose to report to the Council alone._

_All as it was intended. Contrary to the scene that Adi and Siri had just made in the Temple, their latest mission went quite swimmingly. Literally. They had been assigned to guard the king of Mon Cala, and his young princely son, from Quarren assassins. As an apprentice, Siri came away with learning much about life in a marine world like Mon Cala. Fighting and moving around underwater provided its own challenges, ones that she had been up to meeting head-on. Using the Ataru style was much more difficult in the water, for example. Siri had been tasked with guarding the prince, while her master protected the king, and together they fended off all harm without butting heads._

_But that wasn't the result they were supposed to present. The bone that Siri had picked with Adi was all just show for the more difficult mission to come. Her first mission without her master._

_After Adi gave the true mission report to the Jedi Council, she met up with Siri hours later in the privacy of her quarters._

_Siri was eager for her master's opinion, though she tried not to let that show. "You think that fight we put on was convincing?"_

_The ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of Adi's lips. "It might have been a tad too dramatic for my taste when you had stomped off."_

_Siri stifled a chuckle. "Oops. Might've gotten a bit carried away."_

_"Otherwise, we've got the rumor mill up and running like we wanted. The Council will help maintain the pretenses that you've resigned from the Jedi Order."_

_Siri was glad that Obi-Wan didn't have to witness the argument and her departure, even though it was all staged. She would hate to hurt his feelings, to make him believe that she was betraying everything they held dear as dedicated Jedi. Thankfully he was away to help in the efforts to defend Naboo, which was under attack from the invading Trade Federation. Soon she would have her own battles to fight._

* * *

Siri felt her legs almost give out on her, the galaxy tilting on another axis. "Obi-Wan is dead? Are you serious?"

"Does it look like I'm not?" Having returned to the Jedi Temple to deliver the terrible news, Anakin held a haunted, hardened gaze level with hers until she couldn't meet it anymore.

She shook her head, feeling numb from head to toe. She had to rest her hand on a nearby hallway pillar for support. "I-I just can't believe it..."

"Me neither, even when I saw him fall with my own eyes. His pulse, his heartbeat...I felt for them myself." His artificial hand made an audible clench at his side. "I felt nothing."

Siri couldn't feel her mouth moving. "When is the funeral?"

"Tomorrow. You'll be there, won't you?"

"Of course. You don't have to ask."

"The news hasn't spread yet. Thought you ought to be among the first to know."

"Thank you, Anakin. I appreciate you telling me."

He nodded and squared his shoulders as he turned away, no doubt to pass on the news to other Jedi.

Siri had to sit down. The sparring rings, and the surrounding spectator benches, were too far away, and she didn't have the strength in her legs to carry her over that distance. Instead she pressed her back against the pillar she'd been leaning on, and slowly sank down to a sitting position. She had to press both hands to her temples, because her head still swam in dizzying disbelief.

Obi-Wan. Dead. Ambushed and taken out by a sniping bounty hunter? It can't be. He was way too good for that kind of death. Siri didn't want to believe that he went out that easily, so suddenly, so...unceremoniously. How unlike him. She thought that he would fall valiantly in the thick of battle, while risking his life for troops and civilians.

She was among those who witnessed the funeral the next day, standing in a circle with Obi-Wan's closest friends surrounding his casket. She stood alongside Garen, Bant, Reeft, and Quinlan. Across from her were Anakin, Ahsoka, senior members of the Jedi Council, and the only non-Jedi present, Padme Amidala and Satine Kryze. Siri wasn't too surprised to see the Duchess of Mandalore, but seeing the Senator of Naboo piqued her curiosity. That curiosity was merely a blip, however, as numb grief soon swelled up to overwhelm everything else in her mind.

Ramrod straight and hands behind her back, Siri strived to keep her emotions behind a dam of Jedi stoicism. She didn't want to believe that the body hidden by the shroud belonged to the man she held dear to her heart. She almost wanted to lift back the shroud and find someone else under there.

Despite witnessing many Jedi funerals before, and knowing what would happen next, Siri still felt her heart being wrung in her chest, felt the cruel finality of it all, as the casket was lowered out of sight, and the doors slid shut for the beam of light to emit from the center.

* * *

Obi-Wan was well and alive, still wearing the very same Jedi tunic marked with dark, singed fabric from the "fatal" sniper shot. He awaited Yoda and Master Windu's further instructions in the medical wing. When the pair of senior Jedi entered to greet him, he couldn't help but ask, "How was my funeral?"

The smallest grin crossed Yoda's aged face. "A better performance than you, your corpse gave."

That took Obi-Wan aback. "A harsh critic you are, Master Yoda. I fell from the top of a building. I could have killed myself."

Yoda wasn't fazed by this. "Survived worse, you have. Young Skywalker knows that."

Obi-Wan frowned. "I took the vitals suppressor as instructed. I was dead to the world, as far as everyone else was concerned. There's no way he could know I was alive."

"Not know, but sense, he will, that something is not right."

"Keeping Anakin unaware is critical," Obi-Wan insisted. "Everyone knows how close we are. His reaction to my 'death' must've sold the sniper, I'm sure of it."

Master Windu crossed both arms over his chest. "What's done is done. We need to get your transformation underway."

Obi-Wan resisted the urge to cringe away as the droid moved in to mow down his hair. "Tell me about my target."

Mace turned on the holo-recorder and proceeded to inform Obi-Wan on Moralo Eval, a male Phindian who was hatching a scheme to kidnap the Chancellor at the festival on Naboo.

Before he had to keep his mouth shut to let the droid work on his facial hair, he squeezed in a question: "Any details that might help me gain his trust?"

The distaste was obvious in Mace's reply. "Eval killed his mother when he was only a boy. Told the authorities he did it because he was bored."

Obi-Wan hid his own horror and distaste with his trademark offhand wit. "I'll try not to bore him."

"Not a game, this is," Yoda warned. "The risks, great they are."

"Yes, and so are the rewards." With all the hair shaved off his scalp and face, Obi-Wan felt oddly naked and vulnerable. He couldn't resist running a palm through his smooth, bald scalp. "Besides preventing Eval from abducting the Chancellor, he could lead us to General Grievous, and possibly Count Dooku himself."

"Facial transformation program loaded," the droid stated.

Great. The best part: a giant needle stuck through his neck. Obi-Wan reclined on the bed. The vitals suppressor must've worn off as his heart beat harder and faster. There was one last thing he could try before he would fully commit to this very risky mission. "I take it there's no way to have the Chancellor withdraw from the festival?"

Yoda shook his head. "See it as a sign of weakness, he would."

Obi-Wan sighed in resignation. Well, he tried. "Sign of weakness. Wouldn't want that."

Out of the corner of his eye, the droid brandished the needle that would sink into the left side of his neck. He grimaced from the spike in pressure, but the worst pain came after that. It was as if some being with large hands, like his friend Dex, grabbed him by the face and molded parts of it around like putty. Obi-Wan thrashed in the bed and felt Mace try to hold him down. The pain was mercifully swift as it soon subsided. Obi-Wan sat up, feeling for the new face he was given. A bigger nose, a stronger jaw, raised skin from ink tattooed along the left side of his face. Definitely not what he had before.

"Transformation initiated," the droid said.

Goodbye, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Hello, Rako Hardeen.

* * *

_"Now, Siri, follow me where you can make preparations off-site," Adi said. "We don't want anyone in the Temple to see you in your new identity."_

_Night fell by the time Adi escorted Siri to the department building of the Coruscant Security Force. A male Human officer led them down several corridors to a large closet, which held every manner of gear and attire that anyone up to no good would wear._

_"I guess these are confiscated from perpetrators before they're sent to prison?" Siri asked. "I thought that police would chuck all of these away."_

_"They save some of it for undercover missions," Adi replied. "Not anyone can just waltz in and take what they please from here, of course. We Jedi are among the few who have the privilege to make use of this valuable resource." She gestured to the closet's contents. "You're not a child; I won't pick what you'll wear for you. I leave you to make your own judgment."_

_Siri gave her master a grateful nod, and Adi stepped outside for her apprentice to make her selections and change into them. Now, what would a low-life slave trader wear? Siri racked her brains as she scanned the rows and shelves for anything that would catch her fancy. She knew she wanted to look as mean and unapproachable as possible. The spiked shoulder pad seemed to sell the part nicely. So did the rock-solid, clunky boots that magnified her footsteps when she tugged them on. A thick, heavy coat of tanned Reek hide added considerable weight to her. As a Jedi required to comply with the formal, simple dress code, Siri never had to choose her own clothes before. But here she was, like a kid at a candy store._

_In her new getup, she clumped her way out of the closet to get her master's appraisal. Adi surveyed the new change in clothes without a break in her smooth, neutral facial expression._

_"That'll do," the Tholothian Jedi remarked, and she tapped fingers to her dark chin. "But something's missing...I think it's in the face. If you'll allow me, I can give you a cosmetic touch-up."_

_"Yes, of course, Master." Siri happily deferred to Adi's experience, curious of what she had in mind._

_In another room, before a mirror, Adi applied red hair dye and black face paint onto her apprentice. Siri couldn't hide her shock as she assessed her new appearance at Adi's handiwork. Bright red hair replaced the blonde locks she had been born with. Adi had braided and kept her tied up hair in place with clasps resembling metal shrapnel. Her blue eyes and pale complexion made the dark paint stand out even more on her face._

_"Inspired by the Zabrak aesthetic," her master remarked. "And I added eye shadow to age you up by a few years. What do you think?"_

_The gleeful grin on Siri's face might've looked like innocent delight before, but now it made her look positively fierce. "I look like I could punch in someone's teeth and not apologize for it."_

_Goodbye, Siri Tachi. Hello, Zora._

* * *

Cloaked by shadow, sitting cross-legged and arms over his chest, Obi-Wan felt like quite the shady dealer as Rako Hardeen was led away from the bar, about to get the shock of his life. A droid escorted Hardeen into the room, leaving the bounty hunter alone with the Jedi.

"Well done, Mr. Hardeen," Obi-Wan said. "You did precisely the job we hired you for. We have your credits right here. But first, we need one more thing." He rose from his seat, showing his face. Hardeen's reflection, rather. "Your clothes."

Hardeen took a step back. "What the—"

Mace emerged from behind, cutting off Hardeen's way to escape. The confused bounty hunter had no choice but to remained trapped in the room, and Mace pulled out a round recorder the size of his palm to proceed with the interrogation.

Hardeen complied for a few minutes, recounting how he had shot down Obi-Wan. Then he exclaimed, "This is stupid, confessing to a murder I didn't even do."

Obi-Wan emerged from the shadows, with Hardeen's clothes replacing his Jedi robes and clone trooper armor. "But you did. For all intents and purposes, Obi-Wan Kenobi is dead. That certainly was your intention." He turned to Mace. "How do I look?"

"Like a criminal. Should you buy all the credibility you need in prison."

Hardeen scowled. "I don't know what you guys are up to, but—"

"Do we have enough recording?"

"I believe we do," Mace replied, then swept a hand over Hardeen's head. "That means you can go to sleep now."

Hardeen slumped over, no longer able to have any dissenting voice to the scheme being hatched.

"How does this vocal emulator work?" Obi-Wan asked.

Mace shot him a glance of dry amusement as the recorder sprouted little legs. "Well, you swallow it."

Obi-Wan grimaced as the recorder scaled up his arm. "I was afraid you'd say that." With reluctance, he opened his mouth to let the recorder crawl inside. He shuddered and uttered a strangled yelp as the recorder settled into its new home: his throat. Through the squirming, the recorder shifted into an emulator, and finally Obi-Wan found enough breath to say, "What an odd sensation. It will take some getting used to."

His Coruscanti accent was masked by Hardeen's deep voice.

Technology had certainly advanced and grown more sophisticated since Siri had gone undercover at least ten years ago. The most drastic changes to her appearance had been dying her hair and painting her face. Now, with the injection of chemicals and the insertion of a self-insert emulator, Obi-Wan ended up with an entirely altered face and voice. Siri had to construct her own identity while he had to take on someone else's. Not that Obi-Wan would ever downplay the significant challenges Siri had faced with her mission, but for his, more effort had to be put into completely, convincingly getting away with stealing another's identity.

"I hope this works," Obi-Wan told Mace.

* * *

Wanting nothing more than to curl up in the solitude and comfort of her quarters, Siri turned away to leave the funeral ceremonial hall when someone called for her.

"Excuse me, are you Siri Tachi?"

Siri fought back any visible and audible signs of dismay. She tucked her hands into the voluminous sleeves of her robes, and faced the shorter, darker-haired woman who came up to her. "I am. And you must be Senator Amidala, is that right?"

Padme nodded. "I really wish we had met under better circumstances. I just heard so much about you from Anakin...I had to meet you."

Siri raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Anakin told you about me? May I ask how you know him and Obi-Wan?"

"They helped defend my homeworld from the Trade Federation many years ago. I owe them my life and many more."

"Ah yes, the battle of Naboo. I wasn't there, but I remember hearing about it."

"We've kept in touch ever since. Both of them are good friends of mine." Standing at the threshold of the hall with Siri, Padme threw a glance back where Obi-Wan's body had sunk into the floor, where Anakin still stood with his face almost obscured by a hood. "I'm still in shock. What a good man Obi-Wan had been. I can't believe he's gone."

Siri stiffened. "Me neither." She too glanced back at Anakin. Grief came in different stages. While she wallowed in denial, she could sense even from this distance that Anakin was simmering in quiet yet searing hot anger. She worried about him.

* * *

Still in the backroom of the bar, Obi-Wan feigned drunken sleep while actually waiting for the authorities to spirit him away to prison. The door swung open, and with his back to the door, Obi-Wan could only make out voices. He had been expecting clone troopers. He did not expect Anakin and Ahsoka to come themselves.

"Is he dead?" Ahsoka asked meekly.

"He's about to be," Anakin growled.

No, this wasn't part of the plan. They were supposed to be back in the Temple, mourning quietly after the funeral. But of course, he should have known that Anakin wouldn't be one to mourn quietly. 'Please, Anakin, don't do anything rash,' Obi-Wan pleaded.

He let himself get rolled over on his back. He blinked open heavy eyelids and squinted. "A Jedi?" He drawled. "I already killed one today. Let me sleep."

"He's not dead. He's drunk." Then Anakin snarled, "Get up, you filth!"

Obi-Wan was grabbed by the collar and pushed up against a wall, getting a faceful of a wrath-filled Anakin. Ahsoka stood by in the corner, wide-eyed and unsure of what to do.

"If it was up to me, I would kill you right here," Anakin spat. "But lucky for you, the man you murdered would rather see you rot in jail."

Obi-Wan, remembering to keep feigning a drunken state, pretended not to hear and didn't respond.

Anakin curled his lip in disgust. "Let's go, you coward, before I change my mind." He and Ahsoka led Obi-Wan to the prison nearby, meeting up with the clone troopers who would take over from the Jedi with handling a criminal like Hardeen.

"Let me know if he's any trouble," Anakin told the clones. "I'd be happy to straighten him out."

Obi-Wan stumbled after the clones, trying hard not to glance over his shoulder back at Anakin and Ahsoka. "Stay home," he wanted to tell them. "Stay out of this!" But he had a bad feeling that they wouldn't. Anakin was the wild card beyond his control.

Obi-Wan entered the prison in time for lunch. After he was stripped off the clothes he had taken from the real Rako Hardeen, and forced into the orange prison jumpsuit, he was herded into the line at the mess hall. As Obi-Wan received unidentified, unappetizing goop on his tray, he didn't fail to hear whispered snatches of conversation among the seated inmates.

"That's him! Kenobi's killer!"

"Rako Hardeen."

"Doesn't look so tough."

While looking for an empty spot, Obi-Wan caught sight of Moralo Eval at the other side of the mess hall. By reputation alone, he at least seemed to capture the Phindian's interest. As Obi-Wan settled into an empty corner of the table, a Rodian and a mottled Karkarodon swaggered up to him.

The Karkarodon snorted. "That's the Jedi killer? He doesn't look so tough." He squinted dark, beady eyes at Obi-Wan. "Hey, you listening? I said you don't look so tough to me."

Obi-Wan tried to ignore him and put a spoonful of food into his mouth, and didn't even have the chance to chew it as he spat it right back out. "This tastes terrible." He didn't have to lie about that. Obviously this Karkarodon brute wouldn't walk away by being asked politely.

Obi-Wan remembered the many rounds of playing pretend with Siri, as they had walked toward each other from opposite directions down the Temple hallway. When Siri had knocked against his shoulder with hers, the first thing that flew out of his mouth was an apology.

Siri had punched his arm, displeasure stamped all over her face. "What are you saying sorry to me for? I'm the one who bumped into you."

"S-sorry, I didn't mean—"

"There you go again!" Siri had shaken her head in exasperation. "Scrub that word clean from your vocabulary. Scum like slave traders don't speak in apologies. Next time we run into each other, you better not say sorry, or you'll be real sorry."

It had taken him a few tries to iron out that habit. Finally he took Siri's intentional bump against his shoulder by rounding on her with a bad-tempered growl. "You have eyes, don't you? Watch where you're going. Do that one more time and you won't have any eyes to watch with ever again."

Instead of reprimanding him with a punch in the arm, Siri nodded and smirked. "Now that's what I'm talking about—the language of threats. You've got to be fluent in it if you want to scrape by in the underworld. And I'd say you're off to a good start."

The language of threats. Time to speak it now. Without warning, Obi-Wan stabbed his fork straight into the inmate's webbed hand. The flesh gave way easier than he had expected. The Karkarodon roared in pain. To add salt to the wound, Obi-Wan grabbed him by the gills, where it really hurt, and pulled him down to the level of his mouth.

Obi-Wan growled into his ear, "Maybe you would taste better."

"Hey, what's going on down there?" A clone guard called out from the level above.

Obi-Wan cracked a mirthless smirk. "Sorry, just playing with my food."

"You're crazy," the Karkarodon cried.

Even by prison standards? Well, that was encouraging. If Siri saw this, she would have nodded in approval. The Karkarodon withdrew his speared hand and slunk away, as did the Rodian inmate flanking him. Moralo Eval, on the other hand, slid into the seat near Obi-Wan. Clearly he was impressed by the flashy show of throwing weight around.

"Your reputation precedes you." Eval sounded more simpering and reedier than Obi-Wan had expected. "I'm curious...when you killed that Jedi, was it for the money or revenge?"

Obi-Wan shrugged. "I don't know. Guess I was bored."

Eval chuckled, and pushed a bottle of sauce closer to Obi-Wan. "Try this. It'll make that slop almost tolerable." Eval got up to return to his table. "I'll be seeing you, Hardeen."

The sauce really did spice up the food. Obi-Wan forced down the rest of his lunch, also forcing back a sigh of relief that his entry in prison went smoothly so far.

* * *

_Even as the ring of spectators roared over her, Siri could feel the death rattle issuing from the throat of her Elomin opponent. She wrung the life out of him with his neck locked between her legs, and fighting back a shudder, she kicked free and staggered to her feet in grim triumph as she was released from the laser tether._

_Seated a few feet before her, the T'surr slave trader Krayn clapped his large blue hands together, and both pairs of red eyes narrowed in malicious glee._

_"Well done, Zora. You've got real fighting spirit. It would be a great honor to have a woman like you in my ranks."_

_Siri wasn't the first to finish her fight. A hulking Wookiee had beaten her to it, with a decisive, loud crack as he snapped the neck of his foe: an unfortunate male Herglic. The Wookiee, Rashtah, had taken his place beside Krayn and observed the other fights, including Siri's. Staging hand-to-hand combat to the death—this was Krayn's way of recruiting new slave traders. He needed three, and Siri earned herself the second slot. Krayn gestured at Siri to take her place opposite of Rashtah. Shaken by the cold-blooded murder she had just committed, Siri tried hard not to show how rattled she was by sliding out of Krayn's line of sight. Now she watched with Krayn and Rashtah the last violent bid for the open job position: a blonde-haired man versus a Dug. The spectators, Krayn's lower-ranked underlings, were a raucous bunch, cheering on both sides to finish the other off in the worst way possible._

_Because of the way Dugs seemed to hug the ground, with their hands for walking and feet in the air, the man crouched low, almost on all fours, as he shuffled around and grappled with his opponent. There seemed to be a stalemate, as neither was able to gain the upper hand in the time that Rashtah and Siri had won in their respective fights. Then the Dug lunged with a howl of rage, and the man did something cruelly astonishing: seize one of the Dug's feet and jam it right into the Dug's gaping mouth. The man leaned his entire weight against the Dug, stuffing the foot farther down the Dug's throat. The Dug gagged and flailed with his remaining limbs, unable to bite down on his own foot. The man didn't relent. Instead he clamped one hand over the Dug's snout. Finally, unable to breathe through his nose or mouth, the Dug went limp. His eyes rolled back and stayed open as the man pushed away his body. He said nothing, though smugness from the victory was written all over his sweaty face._

_Siri felt her blood run cold when their eyes met._

_Krayn belted out hearty laughter. "What a fight, Shodo! You took the longest to finish, but you make up for it by being the most creative one."_

_Shodo inclined his head and flashed a small smirk. "I'm pleased to hear it."_

_He, Rashtah, and Siri lined up before Krayn, who surveyed them with savage satisfaction. "You three would make a fine addition to my operations. Let us celebrate your initiation with a feast. Everything's on me."_

_Despite her fatigue from the fight, Siri had no appetite for anything, let alone for the decadent array of exotic dishes that Krayn lavished before his newest colleagues. With so much blood money and power wielded in his fists, Krayn could get all the food he want from every corner of the galaxy. The slaves holed up in lower levels of the ship, meanwhile, were starving, and lack of decent food made their ribcages show. Thinking of them, Siri burned with shame to look upon all the food before her now. If only she could sneak down food for the slaves. But that was just wildly unrealistic. She would get noticed, and even if she managed not to get caught, how could she keep up the food smuggling to keep all of them properly fed? There had to be another way to help them. She forced herself to take a few bites, or her disinterest would draw suspicion._

_Siri stiffened at the nudge of her arm, though it was just from Shodo sitting to her left._

_"Hey, Zora. Obviously I couldn't see it since I had my own fight, but while Krayn was getting dinner ready, I had the chance to watch your fight from a holoclip." He leaned slightly toward her, with intrigue flickering in his eyes. "You have excellent reflexes. No wonder you finished off your foe before I did."_

_Siri nodded gruffly at him and looked away. "Thanks."_

_"Took me a while to come up with a good strategy."_

_She didn't want him to dwell on the morbid subject. It was truly nauseating to be among the company of remorseless killers, but she had no choice but to soldier on. She thought of the slaves she couldn't rescue now, but would someday, and that motivated her to stomach the feast._

* * *

Of course, Obi-Wan wouldn't be able to go anywhere in the prison without a bunch of clone guards watching his every move. They boarded a lift to move him to his cell.

"Here you go, Hardeen," a guard said as he opened up the cell. "Home sweet home."

Obi-Wan noticed who would be sharing his temporary home, and he said, "What a coincidence."

"Oh, no coincidence," Eval replied. "I have great influence here."

"What do you want from me?"

"There's bigger game than Jedi, if you've got the guts."

Obi-Wan inclined his head, his interest genuinely piqued. "I'm listening."

The Phindian criminal rubbed his grimy hands together. "It's a brilliant plan, if I do say so myself. It involves the Chancellor."

A cold, mechanical voice overhead cut him off. "If I'm breaking out this goon along with us, it'll cost you. Double my rate."

Obi-Wan's heart skipped a beat. He knew that voice all too well. The Duros bounty hunter, odd-looking in an orange jumpsuit and without his signature hat, swung his legs over the bunk bed and jumped down to squint at Obi-Wan.

"Rako Hardeen, meet Cad Bane," Eval said. "Although, given Bane's reputation as the best bounty hunter in the galaxy after Fett kicked the bucket, I don't think you need the introduction."

Though she was far from here, Obi-Wan could almost hear Siri, her confidence and worldly way of going about things like this, counseling him from the back of his mind: "He's threatening you. Meet a threat with another threat." He glared up at Bane. "Who are you calling a goon?"

The bounty hunter's reply dripped with scorn. "Any imbecile can kill a Jedi with a lousy sniper blast. You want my respect? You do it face-to-face."

If Siri was here, she'd say, "That's it. Throw his words back at him."

"Who said I want your respect?"

The look Bane gave him could send a youngling running away crying. "Make that triple my rate."

Eval slithered in between them, in an attempt to break up the crackling tension. "Oh, what a shame. Seems this cell isn't big enough for the three of us." He called for the guard, then led Obi-Wan to the edge of the cell. "It's been a pleasure chatting with you, Hardeen. But you will forget everything you heard in here, or Moralo Eval will have you slaughtered."

Obi-Wan resisted quirking an eyebrow at the Phindian criminal. In his experience, any time that life-forms referred to themselves in the third person spoke of overinflated egos and minds with a few screws loose.

Obi-Wan swallowed down his disappointment as he was escorted to another cell. Just as he was getting somewhere with getting clued in on Eval's scheme, that blasted bounty hunter had to interfere. At least Obi-Wan put up an act of defiance that probably took Bane aback, and hopefully fanned the flames of Eval's interest in him. He couldn't know for sure until they crossed paths again.

Siri, given her struggle to let go of impatience, wouldn't be of any help now. Instead he heard the wise voice of his late master speaking to him from distant memory. "Patience, my young Padawan." Hearing from Qui-Gon comforted him and made him smile, despite being holed up in this place filled with evil-doers of the worst kind.

* * *

With Cad Bane in prison, especially since he made his capture happen on purpose, escape was inevitable. That bounty hunter was much too cunning to waste away his days in a cell. In his surreptitious report to Mace and Yoda, he had told them that much.

When that boy stormed up to Obi-Wan in the mess hall, picking a fight he knew he didn't start, he figured that Bane was somehow involved with staging the spark for an all-out prison riot.

Chaos ensued as the inmates erupted into rowdy rebellion, and clone guards streamed in from open doors to contain the riot. Obi-Wan noticed Eval and Bane making a break for it through one of the open doors, and he sprinted ahead after them.

A female voice announced overhead of the facility being on lockdown.

From across the hallway, Obi-Wan overheard the guard's order: "Turn your weapons off stun. Kill the prisoners if you have to!"

Not good. He counted on Bane's cunning to get the three of them out of this prison before the riot would end in a massacre. Obi-Wan caught up to Bane and Eval at the end of the hallway.

Bane peered at him with undisguised mistrust. "No one invited you."

"He killed a Jedi," Eval said. "He could be helpful."

After a few seconds of consideration, Bane relented, though not without complaint. "Fine. We're wasting time." He led them to the prison morgue, though the confidence in his movement wavered when the access pad to one of the doors wouldn't glow green for entry. "The lock has changed," he growled.

Obi-Wan came up to remove the cover of the hub. "I can get us inside. I'll re-wire the access port on this door. It'll take some time, so warn me if anyone comes."

Bane turned away. "Make it quick."

After making sure that neither Bane nor Eval were looking, with a wave of his hand Obi-Wan used the Force to manipulate the lock. "We're in," he declared.

His partners in crime hurried into the room with him, but they weren't safe yet. Voices of incoming clone guards filled Obi-Wan's ears.

"Quick, in here," Bane said as he opened a metal casket and jumped into it.

Obi-Wan opened his, but to his shock and slight disgust, it was already occupied by a dead Rodian. Perhaps the very same Rodian who'd been silently tagging along with the bullying Karkarodon. The guards were just around the corner. No time to reconsider. Obi-Wan grit his teeth, held his breath, and hopped in to join the dead Rodian.

Within the confined, stale darkness, Obi-Wan felt his casket sliding down a chute to the lower levels, to the crematorium. Would he able to get out before he would get roasted?

He heard a muffled exclamation from a nearby clone guard.

"Hey, wait, some of them are showing vital signs."

That was his cue. As his casket was cracked open, Obi-Wan sprang into action and knocked back the guard. Eval and Bane followed suit, not hesitating to overwhelm the guards by seizing the blasters and firing at them. Obi-Wan also made quick work of disarming the nearest guard, but didn't pull the trigger. "If you're in the position to choose, choose life," Siri had said. He couldn't bring himself to flex his finger. His moment of indecision was rewarded with the guard sounding the alarm. Bane brought him down with a merciless shot to the gut.

"What's the matter with you?" He snapped at Obi-Wan.

The Jedi in disguise turned away. "My blaster jammed," he muttered.

He fled with Eval and Bane out of prison to sneak aboard a ship belonging to an oblivious Quarren. Eval made for the dashboard, and Bane was going to do the same when suddenly he rounded on Obi-Wan with a hard hook to the face.

"That's for hesitating during the escape."

Obi-Wan bit back a grunt of pain. "If it wasn't for me, we'd still be stuck in there."

"Yeah, funny how that worked out."

Obi-Wan tried to ignore that remark. That bounty hunter was quite cunning, sharp and smart as a whip. Obi-Wan would have to keep on his toes around him.

"You did well in there, Hardeen," Eval said with a crooked grin. "Maybe there's a place for you in my plans, after all."

Obi-Wan seated himself behind the two. "I'm listening."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan going undercover as Rako Hardeen is one of my favorite TCW arcs. It's cool how he has to act so differently from his normal self. He had to have had help from someone who knew what it took. Someone like Siri.
> 
> Chapter 1 started at the tail-end of Siri's undercover mission. That made me want to jump back and fill in some holes of that time. I thought it'd be cool to write it as a parallel to Obi-Wan's undercover mission. The Jedi Quest comics and Path To Truth are my references for the Zora arc, and of course, I left a lot up to my imagination.
> 
> Up next: Obi-Wan faces more trouble as he goes deeper undercover. Siri tries to dissuade Anakin from taking revenge for Obi-Wan's apparent murder, putting their friendship in jeopardy.
> 
> P.S: I meant to get these chapters out a lot sooner, but a life-changing event upended everything: my dad suffered a hemorrhagic stroke on January 5th. He passed away on the 13th, and he was laid to rest on the 21st. He was fit and healthy from frequent cycling, in his mid-50s, so this was an early and very unexpected death. I had to miss 2 weeks of school to be with my family. I also had to give myself some emotional distance from the episode this chapter was based on. I know Obi-Wan only pretended to get killed, but the "funeral" scene would've been difficult for me to write about if I tried to update in January as I originally intended. Thank you for your patience and understanding.


	14. Alliance With Enemies and Fallout With Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Turns out that Transcript Wiki doesn't have scripts for the rest of the Clone Wars episodes I'll be covering. Fuuuuuu-

It was a relief and a mercy that Siri wasn't deployed on a mission offworld. She hadn't asked for the break, but if she had to be honest with herself, she was in no shape to lead an operation with a clear, level head.

How could she think straight after the man she loved was dead?

Siri had spent days cooped up in her quarters, sitting listlessly in one place. On difficult, taxing missions, Jedi could hone their focus to set aside thoughts of food and sleep for long periods of time. She found that grief suspended her in a similar sort of limbo, making her feel neither deprived nor satiated of worldly needs like food and sleep. No one came by to bother her, so she remained undisturbed, tucked away in the darkness and solitude of her quarters, in the roiling storm of her emotions.

One day (she didn't know exactly when; she had lost count of the date), several knocks on her door jerked her back to reality. It took Siri several moments to register the sound. As it persisted, she stumbled upright on cramped, aching feet she hadn't used for Force knew how long.

The person awaiting her on the other side of the door took her by surprise.

"Anakin? What are you doing back here so soon?" She stepped aside to let him in. "I thought you were at the Galactic Senate Rotunda, with the Chancellor."

Anakin's eyes, normally dark and brooding, glittered with an excitement that unsettled her. "He sent me back with a tip. Obi-Wan's killer is heading for Nal Hutta."

Siri's voice flattened in dismay. "You're going after that bounty hunter, aren't you?"

"Of course. He has to pay for what he did." He paced about her quarters like a restless, caged beast. "I can't just sit around when he's on the loose. I got a great lead on his location, too. I have to do something about it. Ahsoka's coming with me. You should come along too, Siri."

Apparently she didn't make her misgivings clear enough for him. "No, Anakin. I can't."

The spark fizzled out of his eyes, and his disbelief rivaled hers. "Why not?"

"Isn't it obvious? We are Jedi. We don't go after enemies eye-for-an-eye. We don't mark beings for death."

Anakin's voice grew as tight as his fist. "Marking beings for death...I heard that before. Obi-Wan said that to me once. When I had made up my mind to hunt down Krayn, in fact." He scowled at the floor. "But you're not my Master. My Master's _dead_."

Siri tried to relax some of the firmness in her tone. "Look, I understand how you feel—"

"Do you, really?" His glare snapped back up and bore hot holes into her. "Do you still love him, Siri?"

She forgot how to breathe. It took her the next second to remember how. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't pretend to be clueless. Obi-Wan told me all about it."

Siri took a step back. "What? Why?" Her mind reeled and tumbled, like she was plunged back into the depths of Mon Cala. Obi-Wan was supposed to keep their promise. The secret kept just between him and herself.

Anakin shook his head furiously. "That's not important right now. You're not answering my question. You still love him, don't you?"

She was too shocked to muster a rebuttal in time.

Anakin clasped her shoulders. "If he still means anything to you, Siri, you would want to avenge him."

Startled by the strength of his grip, especially from his right hand, she shrugged free of it and finally found the words. "Revenge won't bring him back, Anakin," she snapped. "Even if it could, that's not the Jedi way."

"I know he can't come back! I'm not an idiot. Still, his murderer doesn't deserve to run free." Contempt pushed down his brow and flared his nostrils. "I was wrong to think that you'd be of any help. If you're not going, Siri, then you don't care about Obi-Wan enough. You don't love him."

Siri flinched, as if Anakin had struck her in the face with that bitter accusation. He stormed out through the door, leaving her speechless and gutted. That's not true, she wanted to shout after him. Instead it came out as a weak, shaky whisper. Left alone with the wound Anakin had left her, Siri sank back into the sleep-mat and buried her face into her hands. She didn't just lose Obi-Wan. She may have lost her friendship with Anakin, too.

* * *

Obi-Wan, Eval, and Bane emerged from the wrecked hull of the ship that they had stolen. It was Obi-Wan's idea to crash it into the swamp, which would swallow it up. There would be no trace of the crash.

"Moralo Eval likes a man who plans ahead." Eval scrutinized Obi-Wan through muddy yellow eyes. "You do have a plan, right?"

"Yeah, I know Nal Hutta. We can get a new ship at Bilbousa Bazaar. But this time, we buy one. Otherwise, we'll have the authorities on us."

"We need to ditch these prison fatigues," Bane said. "We'll have a bounty on our heads for escaping. And I don't like to stand out."

Says the one who likes wide-brim hats, Obi-Wan almost said. But he kept his mouth shut and thought it best to tail them quietly. They climbed off the wrecked ship and entered the bazaar. Obi-Wan wore a mask of indifference at the sight of nearby security clubbing locals to submission.

Bane gestured to a pawn shop ahead. "Pablo's place has everything a bounty hunter needs and more."

The trio of fugitives stepped into a dimly lit, cluttered array of shelves stuffed to the brim with gear. Obi-Wan had to tread carefully to make his way through the cramped space. Bane made a grunt of satisfaction as he swiped a large gray hat off the shelf.

Picking a helmet for himself, Obi-Wan couldn't contain his wry amusement anymore. "For trying to blend in, your hat sure makes you stand out."

"I don't like to hide under a helmet," came Bane's barbed reply.

Pablo, the Rodian who ran the pawn shop, sidled up to Bane with the simpering manner that reminded Obi-Wan of so many advisors who, in his experience of high-level negotiating, tried to curry favor from their ruler. "Is there you anything else you desire, huh? A new ship?"

Irritated disappointment rang in Bane's metallic vocal chords. "Your choice of blasters is lousy this time, Pablo. Where can I get some quality blasters?"

The pawn shop owner chuckled. "Business has been at an all time high these days. Early bird gets the worm and all that. I wouldn't be too picky, being on the run like you obviously are."

Bane hoisted up Pablo by the collar and pinned him against the wall, ignoring an outburst from the blue female Twi'lek. "I'd keep my mouth shut if I were you," he growled. "We'll get our weapons elsewhere." He released his choking hold on Pablo's neck, and the Rodian bent over gagging.

The lack of ample light in the pawn shop hid the distaste on Obi-Wan's face. Was the show of force really necessary? Then again, this must be how Bane earned his reputation for being the most fearsome bounty hunter in the galaxy. Obi-Wan turned to the Twi'lek, who knelt beside Pablo and went on in distressed Huttese. He didn't need Siri around to tell what she might be saying. Feeling pity for the store owners, he extended credits to the Twi'lek. "Here, for your trouble."

The Twi'lek smacked his hand away, sending the credits flying, and exclaimed something that must have been along the lines of "get out of here!"

Crestfallen, Obi-Wan had no choice but to turn away and hit the road with Eval and Bane. Even in this disguise, he had tried to retain some trace of decency. Too bad it didn't get him anywhere.

* * *

_Committing murder proved to be only the beginning of Siri's trial under fire._

_Before the throne of rare greel wood he had fashioned for himself at the helm of his ship, Krayn appraised his newest recruits. "Listen, you three, you gave me a good first impression yesterday, but I'll need to see more if I'm going to entrust you with the real salt and meat of the operations. Any of you ever gone on slave raids before?"_

_Rashtah grunted in affirmation._

_Unusual for a Wookiee to be involved in slave trade, Siri thought._

_Shodo's reply oozed with casual confidence. "Did my fair share for the Hutt lords, but not on this scale and magnitude."_

_"I haven't," Siri admitted, and added, "but I'm a fast learner."_

_Propping elbows on armrests decorated in trophies (no doubt pried from the hands of his victims), Krayn interlocked his fingers. "I expect nothing less than excellent results. All but one of you may have gone on slave raids before, but probably not done my way. Here, the workflow is demanding and my standards are high. I need you to be aware of that. I funnel slaves into the spice mines, you see, and those mines make for very high turnover numbers."_

_Work in the spice mines was extremely dangerous. Not to mention miserable and back-breaking. No sane being looking for work would take it up, so work in the spice mines was left to the bottom-of-the-barrel caste, the ones who have no say or choice in the matter._

_"Bring in fresh new slaves for the spice mine grinder, and you'll climb up the ranks to administration," Krayn went on. "Each of you will be assigned to different parts of the Outer Rim Territories, under a team of more experienced slave raiders. Do a good job for me and you'll be handsomely rewarded. My respect and trust aren't things I give out so freely."_

_Because Siri was the greenest among the recruits, she would have to work even harder to prove herself worthy. That meant throwing herself into direct competition against her fellow recruits to round up the most slaves for Krayn. That meant infiltrating system after system to snatch away slaves from their owners, and worst of all, their families. Hardly an honorable goal to strive for, but a necessary one if that was what it took to earn Krayn's trust._

_The first world she and her team of slave raiders touched down on was Nar Kreeta. On a planet of mostly deserts, almost all cities were ports straddling the sea._

_The captain of Siri's raiding crew, a snaggle-toothed one-eyed Trandoshan named Marg, wasn't one for eloquence and grand plans. All he said prior to landing was, "Take what you want and leave the rest behind to clean up!"_

_In other words, an all-out campaign of havoc and terror. There was no thought for any sort of stealthy tactics as the crew stormed the beach, hailing their charge with indiscriminate blasterfire and war cries. Preferring to save her ammunition, Siri found the most valuable tool strapped to her to be portable interference: a device emitting signals that rendered transmitter chips useless. Without the transmitter chips to deter escape, slave owners had no real hold over their living property. Siri and her partners in crime could spirit away as many slaves as they wanted without setting off the lethal chips. Locals fled into hiding, abandoning their homes and upended vendors. Sobs and screams filled the salty air, giving it a heftier weight in Siri's lungs._

_In the port cities of Nar Kreeta, slaves tended to be kept in the lowest levels of ships. With her accomplices, she tore at and kicked down ports of entry in her way, but with the actual slaves she opted for quiet, ruthless efficiency. Out of everything she saw and heard since the raid started, she hated the sobbing and screaming the most. So when she broke into ships and homes to pick off slaves, she would silence them with a headlock, so they put up no resistance as she let her brawnier colleagues lug them away._

_As the raid went on, she found something she hated even more than terror from the slaves: pleas from their owners. They threw themselves at her feet, saying things like, "Please, go ahead and take my slaves. They'll be useful, and I can always get more. Just don't ruin my home and stock." Towards these lowest of the low, who treated living beings like things to throw away and collect, Siri had nothing but disgust and contempt for them. At the peak of her anger, she actually spit down at one who wouldn't stop groveling at the hem of her coat._

_Finally, Marg hoisted up his blaster and fired several rounds into the air. "All right, back to the stars, boys—" then to Siri, "—and girl. Wrap it up and make sure we're not being followed."_

_As the crew made a run for their ships, they seized the chance to loot food and goods scattered far from their stalls. Since Siri took nothing, she was the first to make it back onboard. She kept her distance from the rest of the crew, whose loud revelry over their spoils fought for dominance with the roar of the ship's engine._

_A long forked tongue flicked at the corner of her eye. Marg had trumped over to her. "Hey, new girl—Zora, is it? Good work today. You should join the party. You deserve to treat yourself."_

_Crossing her arms over her chest, she tried to give off an aloof air as she didn't meet his amber gaze. "No thanks. Someone's got to be sober enough to pilot the ship."_

_The captain's tongue flicked even harder and his snaggle-tooth flashed into full view as he laughed. "You have a point. Well, since you took up the offer to pilot, don't mind me if I swig this." He swaggered off downing a flask of what must be, from the smell of it, very strong grog._

_The raids continued for the next week or so. A cargo ship could hold up to a week's worth of kidnapped slaves. When the raiding crew rendezvoused at the Kessel Run, Krayn's base of operations, Marg went out of his way to speak the highest praise of Zora during his report._

_"Not much for camaraderie, but gets the job done quickly and quietly," the Trandoshan captain said. "She's efficient, which is just the thing you're looking for in a raider. I won't be surprised to see her become a captain of her own crew soon."_

_"I'll be the judge of that," Krayn said, then addressed Siri with the slightest nod of approval. "It's not easy to impress Marg. Consider it an honor to be the exception. Get some rest before your next raid. It's been ages since my first, but I remember it to be the most exhausting."_

_The cargo ship taken out for raids was much smaller than Krayn's stronghold, forcing raiders into a cramped shared quarter for sleeping. But here, finally, Siri had the luxury her own quarters, where she had stowed away her lightsaber and comlink—her only connection to the Jedi Council—under a sleep-couch. Hidden away from all other company, and thinking of all the slaves she had robbed of tears on her first raid, Siri released a week's worth of pent up crying. Looking up at a grimy mirror, she noticed that none of the black paint on her face had smeared off. Adi had taken care and made sure to apply waterproof paint. Master Gallia, the Jedi Order, the Jedi Temple...Siri curled up on the sleep couch and cried even harder as her thoughts carried her home and her heart ached for it._

* * *

Bane wasn't going free without a reprimanding word. "You should've just walked away quietly," Obi-Wan snapped. "The owner's probably calling the Hutts right now, seeing what kind of bounty there is on us."

Bane chewed at the pick between his teeth. "Relax. In this slime pool, everyone's an outlaw. Besides, they'll be looking for three of us. We'll split up. You find a ship, Eval and I will get weapons."

Obi-Wan thrust out an arm to cut off Bane's stride. "Not so fast. If it's all the same to you, I'll get the weapons."

Bane batted his hand away. "No, it's not the same to me. You crashed the ship, you get a new one."

"It does seem fair," Eval agreed with a shrug.

Obi-Wan stared after the retreating pair, who continued a muted conversation, no doubt to discuss how much they couldn't trust him. He headed for the ship lot, where he tried to buy one from a Bith dealer. As he closed the deal for a light freighter, Obi-Wan shouldn't be so surprised that Eval and Bane came up only carrying enough weapons for two. He figured to bring indignant attention to it, anyway. "Hey, where's my weapon?"

Bane wasn't one for pleasantries or beating around the bush. "You don't have one," he replied shortly. "You're not coming."

"He doesn't want to split the fee for breaking me out of prison," Eval explained as he began boarding the ship. And with a crooked grin, he added, "Also, he despises you."

Diplomacy and negotiation was fought in a different kind of arena. No time here for gentle nudges to compromise. Siri had told him that along with threats, the other language he had to master was money. Obi-Wan raised his voice in defiance. "I'm not going anywhere without my reward."

Eval waved a dismissive hand at them. "I'm sorry. This is between you two."

Obi-Wan glared up at the Duros bounty hunter. "What's it going to be, Bane?"

Just as the question left his mouth, he heard a familiar female voice raised in a shout. It was the Twi'lek assistant from Pablo's shop, directing a pair of Gamorreans and a Nikto to the fugitive trio.

Bane looked back at Obi-Wan. "Here's your reward: I'm not killing you." Without warning, his gauntlet clicked open to spray green gas into Obi-Wan's face. The Jedi in disguise cried out and tumbled down the ship's ramp.

He writhed on the ground, feeling like his eyes were set on fire. He blinked hard to find blurry apparitions of the armed beings standing over him. So much for trying to be a team player among backstabbing scum. The Nikto raised his electrojabber high in the air, and before it slammed down on his torso, Obi-Wan thought, 'I hate being a bounty hunter.'

* * *

For the first time in what felt like an entire age in the tome of galactic history, Siri emerged from her quarters not to retreat to another part of the Temple, but to leave it entirely. As she willed her legs to keep walking, hunger slammed back into her in the form of craving for food at Dex's Diner. Dex...maybe he doesn't know about what happened to Obi-Wan. She didn't know how publicized the news would be. A fresh wave of pain washed over her chest at that. Maybe she would have to be the one to tell him. A sprinkling rain pattered down as Siri made her way to a speeder that she would take down her usual route to Coco Town. A passerby at the speeder lot made her look twice. It was a Dresselian, but not just any Dresselian.

"Siri?" he exclaimed. "Is that really you?"

"Hello, Reeft." She couldn't bring herself to smile in greeting. She hadn't talked to anyone since Anakin, so her whole face felt like a stiff, heavy mask.

Reeft wasn't alone. Three accompanying Jedi threw back their hoods. Garen, Bant, and Quinlan.

"None of us have seen you since the funeral." Reeft faltered a bit before going on, "It's probably no business of mine to ask, but going by our last conversation together, I'll go out on a limb to guess that you're heading to Dex's Diner?"

"As a matter of fact, yes." Siri turned to the other three Jedi. "And I guess you're all coming along with Reeft?"

"We heard from him that there's good grub," Quinlan said. "Well, Reeft thinks that _everything_ tastes good, but we were told that this diner is especially good."

"If you are also heading over there, Siri, you might as well come with us, if you'd like," Bant suggested gently.

"Saves us one speeder," Garen said.

Siri made her way over to them. "Sure, I'll tag along. Thanks." For their kindness, she offered to drive them to the diner. Piloting the speeder gave her focus when she desperately needed to regain it.

"Siri, Reeft! My Jedi regulars!" Dex swept up both Jedi into a near-crushing hug. He held up his two free hands at the other Jedi. "And your friends, I assume. New customers."

Reeft smoothed out his tunic after being released. "Yes, we're all friends of Obi-Wan."

"Ah, Obi-Wan! That's who's missing." Dex peered around. "Where is he, anyway? Haven't had the chance to see him as much as I want to ever since these damn clone wars broke out."

All the Jedi looked away and no one said anything for a while. Siri ventured to speak on everyone's behalf. "Dex...Obi-Wan isn't coming back here." She extended a compassionate hand to rest it on the Besalisk's shoulder. "He's...he's gone."

Dex blinked his beady eyes at her several times, then mustered the softest reply she had ever heard from a booming Besalisk like him. "Gone? As in gone forever? Or one with the Force, as you Jedi put it?"

Siri swallowed hard. "I'm afraid so."

"Oh." Unlike the emotionally reserved Jedi, Dex made no effort to hold back tears that ran down his rough face and large wattle. "Sorry, friends, I need to step out for a minute." He trundled back into the kitchen with a meaty hand over his face.

A droid waitress rolled up to break up the awkward position the Jedi found themselves in. "I'll find you an empty table," she told them. "I'll go check in on him."

Another silence reigned as the five Jedi settled into a table. "Well," Garen finally said in a subdued voice, "I guess the news hasn't gone around much outside the Temple."

Quinlan frowned. "That's odd...you'd think that the one responsible for taking out Obi-Wan would have his name and face plastered all over the galaxy."

Reeft slumped in his seat. "I'm too sad and hungry to think about anything else. I just want to eat."

When the waitress brought them beverages, Siri stared into her cup rather than drink from it. Despite the buzz and clamor of other customers in the diner, Anakin's accusation rang through her ears: "You don't love him!" Her knuckles went white over the edges of the cup. A gentle pat on her arm made her start.

Bant pulled away her webbed hand. "Sorry, Siri, the waitress wants to know if you'll have the usual today."

"Oh. Er, yes, please."

"All right, honey, just making sure." The droid waitress rolled away. Siri was the last one to have her order taken, and she didn't realize until later that her name had been called several times to get her attention.

"We hadn't seen you around the Temple since the funeral, so we got worried," Bant said to Siri.

Reeft had already chugged down his first drink, and he sipped at the second. "Before we even left the Temple, we thought about inviting you to come with us to the diner. We came up to your quarters, but you weren't there."

"We figured you went somewhere else to be alone," Garen said. "So we went on ahead. It was a nice surprise to run into you at the speeder lot."

Siri felt a swell of appreciation for her fellow Jedi. "Thanks for thinking of me." She forced herself to take a sip of her drink. "I'm sorry, I've only been thinking of myself."

"You don't have to apologize for anything." Kindness glowed in Bant's wide-set eyes. "We've all lost a good friend. These days have been very hard on us and we're processing them differently."

"It's a wonder that we have free slots in our busy schedules to squeeze in time for dinner here," Reeft remarked. "Usually we're all spread out and occupied with the war."

"Must be the will of the Force," Quinlan said before downing his cup.

The droid waitress returned with their entrees, and with Dex in tow. Dried tears were still stuck on his stubble. "Obi-Wan...I'm gonna miss him," he said with a loud sniff. "He was my first Jedi friend, and he wasn't my last. I give you my condolences through piping hot food straight out of my kitchen."

"And we give you ours with our patronage," Siri replied.

She and Garen sat closest to him, the farthest away from the window, so Dex gave them hearty pats on the shoulder and waved at the other Jedi before lumbering back to the kitchen.

"What acquaintances Obi-Wan had made over the years," Bant remarked. "I'm not surprised, though. He's the most grounded, humble man I've ever met."

Quinlan laughed. "Why else would he bother to become friends with the likes of me? He always used to say that he never liked hanging out with me, but I can see right through him."

"I'd ask myself the same thing," Siri replied. "He and I used to be at each other's throats when we were barely Padawans."

"I remember," Garen said with a laugh. "He used to tell us how scary you were."

Siri's eyebrows shot up. "I _scared_ him? He never told me."

"Of course he wouldn't." Quinlan had almost spit out his drink from laughing.

"Somewhere down the line he learned to try seeing the good in everyone." The only one who had ordered a salad, Bant had been taking in small forkfuls of it. "I've known him longer than you, Siri, and I know that he hadn't always been that way before. His change in heart must have had something to do with you."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Siri said modestly.

"I agree with Bant." Occupied with the impressive pile of nerfburgers on his plate, Reeft finally spoke up. "Obi-Wan and I also go way back. But ever since you went on missions with him, he came away a bit different than the Obi-Wan I had met."

"What did you do to him?" Garen asked.

"Nothing." Under the collective stares of her fellow Jedi, Siri felt her face grow hot, and not from the nerfburger she was eating. No one at this table could have known what went on between her and Obi-Wan, right? Then again, he had told Anakin. Did he tell his friends, too? If he did, though, they wouldn't be asking her. Confused and irritated, Siri flattened her brow almost to a scowl, and tried to hide most of her face behind the cup she tipped to her lips.

"Sorry, Siri, we didn't mean to tease you," Bant said. "It's just...well, we don't get to see you that much, so we don't know you as well as we would like. When we were younger, you never really mingled with us, but that's our fault."

Siri shook her head. "No, I made the decision to keep my distance. I was so focused on training and being taken seriously. I learned later on that I shouldn't have been so distant. Obi-Wan went out of his way to become my first real friend." And more, she said to herself. The wrench of her heart coincided with the grip on her cup. "I'll always be grateful to him for that. I wish I could have told him before he..." Her throat closed up before she could go on.

Suddenly the atmosphere over the table grew heavier. Sitting next to Siri, Bant rested a webbed hand on her shoulder. "Thank you for coming out here to tell us that. Let's honor his memory with our friendship to him, and with a tighter friendship among us."

The compassion of the Mon Calamari Jedi knew no bounds, and Siri found herself smiling at that. She raised her cup toward the middle of the table. "To our friendship. To Obi-Wan."

The Jedi echoed her toast, clinking their glasses and cups together with hers.

* * *

"The ship will crash soon on Nal Hutta."

At that report transmitted to the Nikto guard, Obi-Wan took that as his cue to be released from custody. He knew that the Hutt enforcers wouldn't honor their part of the deal. No matter. With a stealthy gathering of the Force, Obi-Wan freed himself from his shackles, and grabbing the electrojabber, gave that Nikto guard a taste of his own medicine with a solid blow across the head. He retrieved his helmet from the Nikto's slack hands and snuck past the Gamorrean sentries stationed outside where he was held. Obi-Wan leapt nimbly onto the rooftop and contacted the Jedi Council through his comlink.

"I'm sorry for being out of communication. The situation was rather tenuous." Obi-Wan watched the gunned down light freighter, which left a blazing trail of smoke in its wake. "But it now seems that things may be on track soon. Here's what I propose: have the bounty hunters removed. If I can win over Bane's trust, I can find out more about Eval's plot. But there can be no more complications. No matter what reports you hear, do not contact me or send help." And feeling like a spoiled child, he added, "One more thing: I'll need enough credits to buy a new ship."

Obi-Wan waited for his accomplices at the patio of the saloon, making sure to exude an air of smugness with his feet kicked back on the tabletop and swigging a glass in one hand. He hailed Eval and Bane with a raise of his glass. "Hey, you missed me?"

Just as he had done with Pablo, Bane swept Obi-Wan off his feet and pinned him to the wall. Obi-Wan had expected as much. These bounty hunters were actually quite predictable, he realized.

Eval broke away Bane's hold on Obi-Wan. "Moralo Eval is running out of time and patience," the Phindian snapped. "Let the man talk."

"Look, I got a ship," Obi-Wan said. "You got the Hutts on your tail, so you make me a partner in everything."

Eval sighed and clumped away in his awkward, ungainly gait. "Your deal's accepted."

Bane, meanwhile, squinted at Obi-Wan. "Where did you get the credits to buy a new ship?"

Obi-Wan's mind raced for an explanation. "You thought you had left me for dead, but the Hutts owed me a favor."

"So you had them shoot us down?"

"You would have done the same thing," Obi-Wan snapped back. "The way I see it, we're even now."

The bounty hunters were all about getting even, it seemed. As Obi-Wan predicted, Bane reined in some hostility and stepped away so Obi-Wan could come along. With assurance of the Jedi Council's support, he could rest easier knowing that the road ahead was paved smoother.

* * *

_The horrors of being involved in the slave trade didn't end with the raids. Because spice was a substance that couldn't be exposed to the light, processing them in the mines had to be done in the dark. All sorts of other things went on in the dark. Things that Siri wished she hadn't stumbled upon by accident._

_Slaves were property, considered less than citizens, and considered expendable. They were used for more than just work. Especially the females. When Siri wasn't out on raids, she remained in the mines for slave-guard duty: monitoring the slaves to make sure they stayed in line. While on patrol, she caught a fellow slave-guard, a burly, dark-haired man taller than Siri by a head, dragging away a young Tholothian._

_"Come on, give me just a few minutes with you," the man said. "Why are you fighting?" He leaned in close, his tongue darted across his lips, and his unkempt beard almost brushed her dark neck. "Wouldn't you rather spend time with me than breaking your back out there?"_

_High-pitched sobs caught in every breath the girl took. "Please, sir, I-I have to work."_

_Siri decided to step in. "Hey, hands off her," she snapped. "She's supposed to be back in the assembly line."_

_Still keeping a tight grip on the Tholothian, the man sneered at Siri. "What business is it of yours? Don't get so cocky just because Krayn likes you."_

_"Release the slave at once. She's here to work, not to be your plaything."_

_The man laughed, which sounded more like a wet cough. "You really are new to this business, aren't you? Listen up, new girl. I can do whatever I want with a slave, because a slave has no right to anything. If I tell her to work, then she works. If I want her for other things, then she'll do just that. And right now, I want her in my bed."_

_The Tholothian protested with a whimper and a futile pull of her hand._

_Siri grit her teeth. "Last chance to let her go, before I'll make you regret ever taking her."_

_The man's bottom lip quivered in a mock pout. "What's the matter, new girl? Gone soft now? Feeling sorry for your fellow female?" Then he snorted. "I guess that's what happens when you leave running slave trade to cun—"_

_He never got to finish. The flash of an electrojabber burst through the dimness of the corridor, followed by a pained howl and a heavy thud as the man hit the ground clutching his groin. The Tholothian slave, released from the man's hold, ran up to Siri, not unlike how a lost child would reunite with a parent. Siri gave the electrojabber in her hand a few deft twirls before tucking it back into her utility belt._

_Drawn by the bloodcurdling scream, several slave-guards, including Rashtah and Shodo, filled up the corridor. Siri ignored the arrivals and attention as she glared at down at the fallen man. "Maybe you're not so smart, because I'll give you a little lesson in common sense here. Girls who are forced to let men have their way with them end up a dysfunctional mess. They get jumpy at everything, see shadows in every corner, and can't think straight, let alone work properly. A slave who can't work is a useless one. Ever thought of that? Or maybe you never cared, because you'd be on to a new girl the next night."_

_Siri didn't let the man answer. She drove the horn of her boot into his groin. He let out a groan and retched. Grimaces and winces rippled through the slave-guards as the sound of the man's vomiting echoed down the corridor._

_The Tholothian girl shrank against Siri. "Th-thank you—"_

_Siri yanked her coat away from her timid grip. "Don't think you're getting off easy. You've got to make up for lost time from work. You'll work double the amount tomorrow, and I'll make sure you get that done with no interruptions." She raised her voice to the slave-guards surrounding the scene she had made. "You hear that? No interruptions. Don't let me catch anyone going against my orders."_

_"Sure, Zora," a Chiss slave-guard said with a nervous chuckle. "Unlike that stupid fellow you clobbered, we wouldn't dream of crossing you."_

_"We've wasted enough time here. Everyone get back to business as usual." Taking the Tholothian by the arm, though not too roughly, Siri led her back to the assembly line while the huddle of slave-guards saw to their humiliated colleague._

_Krayn's ship held a massive armory filled to the teeth with blasters, electrojabbers, and vibro-axes, so that no slave raider had an excuse to go about unarmed. It also had ample room to practice with those weapons. Siri wasn't fond of any place within the ship or the mines, but second to her quarters, she hated it a bit less for having a space where she could stay sharp and fit._

_Though she considered her actions against the offending slave-guard a win, Siri took out her frustration on blasterfire targets. She had wanted so badly to comfort the slave girl with a hug and kind words. She reminded Siri so much of her Master too, with those bright blue eyes and dark skin. But to keep up her cover and slave-trader image, Siri had to treat the poor slave like a pest for wasting her time, and treat her like a liability for not doing work as she should._

_Siri lowered her blaster, chest heaving, and surveyed the singed bullseyes she had left on all the targets. Force-enhanced perception still served her well._

_"Hey, none for me?"_

_Shodo had entered the armory to take a blaster off the rack. She, on the other hand, put hers away in favor of a vibro-axe. While his tone was dryly playful, she showed him the same gruffness as on the day they had met. "Sorry. Got carried away."_

_Shodo rested one hand on his hip and held aloft the blaster to prop the barrel of it over his shoulder. "What you did back in the mines...are you going to do that for every girl you see struggling in the arms of a man?"_

_"I'm going to do what I can." Her eyes narrowed at him. "You want to stop me or what?"_

_He shrugged. "I have no reason to. As long as you don't rub Krayn the wrong way, you do whatever you want." He turned away from her and cocked the blaster to try landing the same bullseyes Siri had made._

_She next channeled her ire into swinging the vibro-axe, cleaving the imaginary flesh of slave-trader scum. There was very little technique to put into an axe. It was a blunt, unwieldy thing, the tool of a brute. Completely unlike the lightsaber she felt she was born for using. "An elegant weapon for a more civilized age," Obi-Wan used to say about it. _

_Obi-Wan...she missed him dearly. She missed his sass, their frequent spars at the Jedi Temple, which she would much prefer over this barbaric armory. She hoped that she would come out of this mission in one piece and see him again. Now there was a man who treated everyone with respect, and recognized the value and dignity of life. She would be a fool to find that kind of character in anyone working under Krayn._

* * *

Obi-Wan, Eval, and Bane only had enough fuel on the newly acquired Luxury 3000 space yacht to stop at Orondia. They refueled and were set for a smooth departure, but before they could even breach the stratosphere, something made a glancing collision from overhead.

To Obi-Wan's shock, a T-6 shuttle flew into view.

Bane too recognized the ship. "Jedi," he growled.

The surprise didn't end there. Obi-Wan's heart skipped a beat when he spotted Anakin, who pried open a door in the shuttle to jump onto the yacht.

Obi-Wan rose from his spot by the dashboard. "I'll take care of him."

Bane barred his way. "No, it's my turn to kill a Jedi."

Obi-Wan felt helpless as he sat back down to let Bane go. But only for a moment. He still had some degree of control over this situation. He was left to helm the ship, after all. Obi-Wan couldn't hear the blasterfire and lightsaber swings outside, but soon Bane and Anakin took their fight to the front of the yacht. Obi-Wan veered it this way and that to keep Bane and Anakin from making contact. He fired several shots ahead, destroying some of the metal pipes and sending up a plume of smoke. With a strong upward pull, Obi-Wan sent the yacht careening into the T-6 shuttle, knocking both of them from a smooth trajectory through the air.

The yacht that Obi-Wan piloted skidded onto the top of a rocky ledge, while the T-6 shuttle plunged into the factory below. Rapid emergency beeping stirred Obi-Wan from a daze, and a spike of concern for Anakin made him jump out of the ship. He descended into a large plume of dust and dirt, which still hung in the air from the ship's messy landing.

Obi-Wan drew out a blaster. Maybe his perception lost its edge from hanging around those bounty hunters for too long, because he didn't sense Anakin's presence until too late. The younger Jedi pounced on him like a Nexu, barreling the two men to the lower level of the rocky ledges.

"You're going to pay for what you did." The throaty growl between Anakin's clenched teeth sent a shiver down Obi-Wan's back.

"You shouldn't have gotten involved!"

Anakin paid no heed to the blatant warning as he charged and slammed Obi-Wan against the rock wall. Anakin pulled no punches, driving Obi-Wan to his knees with wrath-fueled blows.

Anakin ignited his lightsaber. "This is for Obi-Wan." But before he could bring down any fatal strike, Bane intervened with a timely snap of grappling rope to bind Anakin.

"You can thank me later, Hardeen." Bane yanked Anakin back and dragged him over the dusty ground. "You had your chance to kill him. Now it's my turn."

Anakin wrested himself free from the ropes, but before he could dish out some retaliation on Bane, Obi-Wan tackled him out of the way. Wrestling his way to come out on top, he brought down his fist again and again. Each punch at Anakin's face drove a punch into his own heart. There had to be some way to warn his former apprentice, his best friend, in the heat of battle, in front of enemies he pretended were his partners in crime.

Suddenly he thought back to his days of bitter rivalry with Siri, when she had used her headlock not to merely tease him, but genuinely beat him in a spar. To drive in her win, she would slip a whispered taunt into his ear before leaving him curled up and gasping on the floor.

Drawing from that well of distant memories, Obi-Wan pulled Anakin into a headlock, just the way Siri had always done it, and whispered, "Anakin, don't follow me."

Even at the peak of her resentment against Obi-Wan, Siri hadn't been ruthless enough to make him outright pass out. But here and now, Obi-Wan had to tighten his grip on Anakin enough to quietly take him out of the battle. Anakin's eyes fluttered shut and he went limp. Obi-Wan gently rolled him over onto his back.

Just as he thought that the dust had settled, Ahsoka hurtled into the scene brandishing her two green lightsabers. Obi-Wan's heart sank as she sailed through the air. He should have known that she would accompany Anakin, and had been the one piloting the ship. Bane opened fire, but Ahsoka batted away the shots with expert ease and little effort. She stood her ground before the fallen Anakin. The young Togruta's courage never ceased to amaze Obi-Wan, but he feared that it would do her a disservice this time. He would hate to land a few punches on Ahsoka, as well.

"Ship's still operational," Eval called out from above. "Let's scram."

Bane smirked at Ahsoka. "You're lucky we're in a hurry, little lady. We'll have to dance another time." He tipped his hat before turning away.

Swallowing down relief, Obi-Wan forced himself to follow Bane without any parting words to Ahsoka. She wasn't foolish enough to give chase after them all by herself. Her biggest concern would be for Anakin.

Like Obi-Wan had told the Council, he didn't want any complications. He had to make a break for it before Anakin would stir back to consciousness, so he could only hope that his warning would be heeded.

Before boarding the ship with Eval and Bane, Obi-Wan murmured, "Thank you, Siri."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: Obi-Wan, disguised as Rako Hardeen, has to prove his mettle and earn a place in the scheme to kidnap the Chancellor. Siri, meanwhile, comes to terms with losing him.


	15. Turning Up The Heat

_There were no shortcuts to earning Krayn's trust. The path to get there was simple and clearly laid out. But every step Siri took required going against all the Jedi values she had been raised on—respect for life, gentleness, compassion, aversion to inflicting harm, the list went on. Every step taken went toward making a name for herself as the raider who would bring in the most slaves for Krayn, for the prosperity of the slave trade._

_Siri hated every minute of it. She also strived not to give away evidence of hating it. She thought she had been doing a decent job. Krayn only praised her work ethic and ability to get good results, and had yet to make any complaints about the lack of such. Rashtah never used his frightening appearance to intimidate or belittle her. In fact, the Wookiee actually seemed to possess some respect for her as he kept his distance, went about his business, and didn't question her loyalty to Krayn._

_Shodo, however, was another story. Ever since that incident with the Tholothian slave, he had taken to giving her remarks dryly reminding her of how much he remembered._

_He would say things like "Hope you're in a good mood today, Zora. Wouldn't want to get a kick in the groin from you," or "I'll make sure the boys down in the mines behave, so that the girls don't need any saving."_

_Siri would pretend to shrug off these comments, even as his amusement rubbed her the wrong way. It didn't help that when Krayn expressed interest in appointing a second in-command, Shodo became her competitor in rounding up slaves and vying for the T'surr's favor._

_She took on this dangerous mission to gather as much information as she could on the trade routes and government connections tied to Krayn. Her job would be much easier as his right hand. As of now, Krayn was pleased with her work performance, but she still had some ways to go before she would be trusted with handling administration, therefore gaining access to the extent of his power. Krayn was often away for appointments and meetings, but with who? That was what Siri needed to find out, and so far, he trusted no one but himself to attend these meetings. She would have to dig deeper, which meant putting herself closer to danger. A small part of her, a distinctly un-Jedi part of her, felt the thrill of the challenge._

* * *

Obi-Wan's impassive face hid the flutter of anticipation in his chest as he sighted Count Dooku awaiting him and his two partners in crime at Serenno.

Eval ran ahead of him and Bane, and was met with a pair of Magno-guards stalking up to him and a displeased look on Dooku's face.

"Your careless delay could have ruined my plan." The Count's cold gaze flickered up to the Phindian's accomplices. "I see Cad Bane is with you. Who is the other one?"

"This is Rako Hardeen," Eval replied. "When Bane's escape plan failed, we only succeeded thanks to Hardeen. I thought he might be useful for the tournament."

"Enough small talk," Bane growled from behind Eval. "I want my money."

"That makes two of us," Obi-Wan said with as much irritation as he could muster.

"You shall have it," Dooku replied, "and perhaps much more, if you would like to enter our friendly little contest."

"I'm in if he's in," Obi-Wan replied, gesturing to Bane.

"You already owe me for one job, Dooku," the Duros bounty hunter grumbled. "Anything else will cost you triple."

Clearly the Count's lofty status didn't intimidate Bane. Obi-Wan couldn't help being impressed by Bane's brazen, irreverent attitude.

Dooku didn't take offense at Bane's displeasure, and only gave him a thin, courteous smile in return. "I assure you that if you survive the challenge, the reward will be well worth it."

Obi-Wan followed Bane's lead in striding ahead and pushing past Eval.

* * *

With no current offworld assignments, and with too much time on her hands, Siri wandered listlessly through the Temple. She didn't want to go back being cooped up in her quarters, and she avoided the Room of a Thousand Fountains because they reminded her too much of Obi-Wan, of confidential exchanges between each other.

She found herself going somewhere she hardly went: the Jedi Archives. She preferred action over scholarship, doing over thinking. Perhaps now she could distract herself over volumes of knowledge she hadn't bothered to explore before.

The studious silence of the Archives felt like a tangible weight on her shoulders the moment she stepped foot into it. Jedi Masters and Padawans barely acknowledged her arrival, as they were engrossed with whatever they were studying, or whatever they were looking for among the rows of logs and files. Only Jocasta Nu, the librarian who oversaw the Archives, made proper eye contact with her, with that unspoken reminder in those somber, wise eyes to keep quiet in order not disturb the others. Or else.

Siri bit back a smile. That hadn't changed at all since her youngling days. Sometimes she yearned for returning to those simpler times when death seemed like a myth, when it seemed like she and her fellow initiates had their whole lives ahead of them. She used to go stir-crazy when she and her Master weren't on assignment for a while. Obi-Wan, on the other hand, could content himself for hours and days in the Archives. His love for all the knowledge packed into one place never waned over the years.

She even recalled more recently that, as a jaded, weary Jedi General, he'd be happy spending the rest of his days taking care of the Archives after the war. He told her that over drinks at Dex's Diner once. Sitting across from her, he had made no effort to hide the fatigue and weight of the universe behind the grey warmth of his eyes. He had trusted her with his vulnerability, his true self. HoloNet made him out to be some grand war hero, but beneath all that, she saw him for who he was: a man with power he didn't ask for, a man who could fight when he'd much rather sit down with a good book.

An invisible hand squeezed her heart. Siri had to sit down. She sank into a nearby desk and resisted the urge to bury her face into her hands. She blinked away blurriness that threatened to take over her vision. It seemed that she couldn't go anywhere without being reminded of him. He was everywhere, it seemed. Everywhere...

_There is no death, only the Force._

Obi-Wan wasn't truly gone, and much as she cared for him and loved him, she could never claim to call him her own. He belonged to the Force. His passing only meant returning to where he belonged: to the energy that binds this universe, the energy one could find anywhere if one knew where to look.

Even now, in the echoing pool of her thoughts and of her own fond memories of the Obi-Wan she knew, Siri could hear his voice, tinged with amusement, drift into her ears as if he was striding right up to her: "What brings you down here to the Archives, Siri? This isn't like you. Having an off day today?"

"I guess so," she wanted to say, "but I think the next day will be better."

Letting go of someone she cared about wasn't the same thing as forgetting him entirely. It was important for a Jedi to realize that distinction. Painful as it may be now, she could learn to live with losing Obi-Wan. As long as she could keep him dear to her memory, and believe in the presence of the Force around her, he was never really gone.

* * *

Several beings of various species, all bounty hunters, Obi-Wan assumed, were already inside the building.

As Obi-Wan walked alongside Bane, he asked, "What kind of contest does the Count have planned for us?"

"Who knows," Bane replied. "I'd be surprised if we all survive." He stopped at the sight of two Ithorians. More precisely, at what was perched on the head of one of them. "Nice hat."

Obi-Wan knew that Bane wouldn't give out compliments just to be nice. He pressed a restraining hand on Bane's chest, but the Duros bounty hunter pushed him away.

The Ithorian with the hat turned from his kin and trumpeted in defiance.

"Where did you get it?" Bane asked, gesturing to the object of his desire.

The Ithorian answered with a draw of his blaster, but Bane moved faster. The Ithorian's beaten reflexes were rewarded—or punished, rather—with a blaster shot through his chest. Bane's thin lips curled up in a chilling grin as he swiped the hat off his victim, who was tossed the one from Pablo's pawn shop.

Bane's blood-colored scowl swept the ring of unsettled bounty hunters. "What are you looking at?" he snapped. "It's a nice hat."

The bounty hunters averted their gazes. Obi-Wan was thankful for the helmet hiding the appalled disgust on his face.

Count Dooku strode into view with his Magna-guards. "Welcome to Serenno. You have been invited here because you are the best bounty hunters in the galaxy. In a few moments, all eleven of you will enter what we call 'The Box.'"

They turned to find just that: a huge box-shaped building hovering high above them. It sounded and looked deceptively simple, at least on the outside, but Obi-Wan guessed that it was anything but simple inside.

"Some of you will not make it out alive," the Count went on. "For those who do, we are looking for the five most skilled among you. Any additional survivors will be eliminated to preserve the integrity of the job that awaits you."

A Magno-guard presented a long metal tray for the bounty hunters to deposit their weapons. Obi-Wan relinquished his own blasters when the tray slid up to him. He would be armed only with his quick wits and Jedi training to get him through whatever challenges laid ahead.

"For those we choose, you will of course be paid most handsomely. But more than that, you'll be part of an operation that'll be remembered as a turning point in the Clone Wars. When we succeed, we will bring the Republic to its pitiful knees."

Eval stepped in to take over from the Count. "Listen up. The Box was designed by me, Moralo Eval, to simulate certain situations that might happen on the job. Enter the Box, if you have the courage."

The bounty hunters gathered into the platform that lifted them to the Box. Obi-Wan and Bane exchanged nothing more than an apprehensive glance. They entered a room surrounded in white tiles. The walls flickered to reveal a magnified image of Eval.

"Before we start, let me say there is only one rule inside The Box: there are no rules. The point, my friend, is to escape. And quickly, because only the survivors will advance to the next challenge."

Obi-Wan was used to whipping out his lightsaber in response to such challenges. His hand flitted to his belt out of habit, but he had no lightsaber this time. Not even a blaster. Those had to be given up. He had to count on his affinity to the Force to guide him through whatever obstacles would come his way. If he trusted the Force, he could trust it to give him the upper hand over his fellow contestants. The Force had never let him down before.

* * *

_Krayn wouldn't be so stupid to store all of his valuable information in a single place. Still, the network of government connections and trade routes was sprawling and intricate. He had to keep track of that network somewhere, perhaps scattered in different parts of his stronghold. When Siri wasn't going out on raids, or patrolling the mines, or resting in her quarters, she used the slim spare time she had available to search the nooks and crannies of Krayn's ship._

_She had climbed up the ranks enough to access a fair amount of the rooms and hallways, but not all of them. To her disappointment, the rooms previously sealed off to her entry only contained supplies to arm the crew and keep the slaves suppressed. Nothing of informational value._

_Siri emerged from the newest room she checked late one night, unable to contain a huff of frustration._

_"Couldn't sleep?"_

_She whirled around at the voice behind her. Shodo stepped out from the shadows with a smirk playing at his face._

_"I could ask the same of you," Siri managed back. She turned her startled reaction into a position of suspicion as she narrowed her eyes at him. "I'm on patrol. I've heard of lifeforms like you skulking around where they shouldn't be."_

_"Is that so? I'm on patrol, too." He tilted his head to one side. "That's odd...why wasn't I told you'd be on the roster tonight? I would've known that you and I would be on the same shift. Then again, so would you."_

_Siri kept trying to lie through her teeth. "Last minute changes happen. Someone got sick earlier today and I took his place."_

_Shodo chuckled. "You still want to toy with me. You've been amusing, I'll give you that, but I don't have time to play games with you."_

_Siri's heightened Jedi reflexes made her pull out her blaster a split second faster than he could. Both pointed their blasters at each other's midriffs._

_"Admit it, Zora. You're not where you're supposed to be, and I caught you in the act."_

_"You aren't where you should be, either," she snapped back. "Who are you really, 'Shodo'? Is that even your real name?"_

_"I don't have to tell you anything. And what about you, 'Zora?' Who do you really answer to?"_

_She stiffened and squared her shoulders. "That's none of your business."_

_The man who called himself Shodo sighed and lowered his blaster by a notch. "We're not getting anywhere at this rate. Krayn may have more eyes than I do, but I can see what he can't: how much you hate playing this slaver charade. You saving that Tholothian girl was my first hint. I don't care how badly you roughed up that other slaver—I could see on your face how much more you wanted to do for that girl. Believe me, I want to do more, too."_

_Siri kept her blaster trained at his torso, and tightened her grip on it as he took a step closer to her._

_"You and me, we're working towards the same goal. We both want to take down Krayn and his operations. Why not work together instead of against each other? Saves both of us a lot of pain in the backside, wouldn't it?"_

_Siri trained a wary gaze on him. "Why should I trust you? I should report you to Krayn instead of wasting my time here."_

_"You report me to Krayn, and I'll expose you too. An eye for an eye, Zora. That's the law in this lawless place. We won't do any good for these slaves if neither of us can stay in this operation."_

_Siri measured his voice and gaze for a few more seconds, gauging him with her intuition. Finally she lowered her blaster. "I'm listening."_

_Emboldened by her receptive attitude, Shodo leaned in even closer, his whisper warm against her face. "As we are for the time being, secret meetings with each other would draw suspicion. We can move into a shared quarters. Pretend to be lovers."_

_"That way it'll be easier to meet, coordinate, and exchange information."_

_"Exactly."_

_Siri paused again, weighing her options, and after begrudgingly acknowledging that Shodo had the upper ground with his proposal, she shrugged. "What the hell. Why not?"_

* * *

Bated breaths from his fellow survivors filled Obi-Wan's ears. His back brushed against theirs as they huddled in the new room they found themselves in. If the Box was Eval's brainchild, then that Phindian truly had a twisted mind. Each game in the Box was more clever and cruel than the last, and contestants paid for their mistakes with their deaths.

Not surprisingly, Bane was among the survivors for the last round. Obi-Wan had to give these beings credit for scraping by with their lives on raw talent and skills alone, without the aid of the Force. Best bounty hunters in the galaxy, indeed. His fellow Jedi would have to be on their guard if they ever had to cross swords with them.

Eval's voice reverberated in the dark. "The final challenge has arrived."

Below the raised platforms the survivors stood on, the tiles opened up to reveal turrets that spat out flames, sending up blistering heat and light through the room.

From an indent in one of the walls, Eval himself stepped out. The Phindian pressed a button on his wrist, bringing up boxes that snapped open to reveal firearms.

"We are going to test your sniper skills. Hit the target."

Sixtat, the Sakiyan infamously known as the Outlands Butcher, swaggered up to the rifle and pulled it into his grip. "Step back, boys. I show you how it's done."

Sixtat made the first shot, then the second, but not the third. The tile glowed red to mark his failed aim. The platform he stood on dropped down, and he with it. Obi-Wan winced as the Sakiyan fell to his gruesome, fiery end. Eval's malicious laugh slithered into his ears.

"I get it," Obi-Wan told the others. "If we miss the target, this platform gets smaller. Soon there won't be any platform left."

The raised boxes nearby snapped open again, revealing another rifle. This time Obi-Wan stepped up to take the shots. No one made any objections. He had gotten them this far, after all, through every prior challenge. He made all three shots successfully, but behind him, the platform raised his fellow contestants farther up while he was left standing at the same level.

Eval scowled at Obi-Wan. "This is not the first time you've saved everybody's skin, Hardeen. Try to make five more hits. Let's see how good you really are." Eval smirked as he sent every down every platform but the strip directly ahead of Obi-Wan.

The lights moved in quicker, more complicated patterns, but still Obi-Wan was able to nail every shot. The lightsaber was his preferred weapon, of course, but thanks to his Force-enhanced perception, he could make good use of any weapon if he had to, like now. But he ran out of ammunition.

Eval turned up his hands in mock dismay. "Uh-oh, out of charges. It's also important for a bounty hunter to be lucky." A crooked grin. "And your luck just ran out."

The strip holding Obi-Wan up from the fire fell away, one platform after another, sending him backing up until the raised platforms pressed against his shoulders. This wasn't fair! This was just Eval playing dirty. Blast, was this really how he was going to die? The only platform holding up Obi-Wan fell away, and he dropped with a scream.

* * *

_Siri sank back into the bed of the quarters she shared with Shodo, her bare chest heaving in ragged pants. Above her, on her, half an arm's length away from propping himself up by his elbows, Shodo left warm breaths against her neck._

_"Is this your first time?" he asked._

_"Can you tell?"_

_"No, not really."_

_She managed a tiny smirk at him. "I did tell Krayn that I'm a fast learner."_

_Shodo pressed his lips against hers and slid his hands over the sweat-slicked small of her back, eager for round two. She indulged him with a deepened kiss._

_What am I doing, she asked herself. What am I getting myself into?_

_Her and Shodo's new living arrangement came with no opposition from Krayn. In fact, the T'surr found it amusing that his subordinates had any urge to fraternize at all in a place like this. Once she and her fellow undercover agent were left to their privacy, no one could know what happened inside. They didn't have to go through the physical motions of being lovers; Siri didn't recall spotting any beings among the crew who could sense pheromones, who would have been suspicious that the couple who claimed to be lovers were not, in fact, acting on that claim. They didn't have to do this. Yet Siri sorely underestimated the hot, crackling, tempting power of close contact, that primitive need for intimacy._

_It all started on the day Siri watched helplessly as a slave was beaten to death by Rashtah. Those rumors about Wookiees were true, after all. Rashtah pummeled that poor slave's head into a bloody pulp as easily as he would with a large fruit. Siri could never forget the glistening dash of brains on the floor._

_The sanctuary of the shared quarters was where Siri could let the cracks of her facade show. That it was okay to be sickened and horrified at the wide spectrum of cruelties committed here. Once she retreated into the quarters, she dry heaved into the sink and fought to keep her legs from buckling._

_A hand on her shoulder steadied her. The ringing in her ears had kept Siri from hearing Shodo enter the quarters shortly after her. She could barely meet his eyes, and she said in a low, tight voice, "I don't know if I can take any more of this."_

_"Yes, you do. It's not about if you can. You have to."_

_His touch, his reassurance, calmed her nerves. In this sick carnival of horrors, admitting her vulnerability to another human being was not a weakness, but a real comfort. In that moment, the surge of gratitude overwhelmed the nausea in the pit of her gut. She gave him a weak smile and said, "You're right." She reciprocated his touch with a hand over his._

_Quickly she began to crave for more than a hand on her shoulder. Evidently, so did he. Layer by layer was stripped away until they could bare themselves to each other at their core, and revel in that tingling, addicting sensation of skin on skin._

_In the heat of those moments, it was as if her Jedi upbringing and training came from another lifetime. Like they belonged to someone else, not Siri. As she drifted off to sleep in Shodo's arms, however, reality settled in as another layer above the sweat cooling on her skin._

_What am I getting myself into, she asked herself again, and wished she had Yoda's foresight to know the answer._

* * *

Obi-Wan thought that he would meet his end by fire. Instead he heard a snap from above and felt rope snagging his arm and cutting off his fall. The undercover Jedi looked up to find Bane at the other end of the rope.

"How dare you defy Moralo Eval?" the Phindian snarled.

Bane's reply dripped in scorn and disgust. "If you're gonna kill him, do it like a man."

Count Dooku's visage flickered into sight from another wall, and his voice echoed in the room. "You heard him, Eval. Show us what _you_ are really made of."

Eval may have been thrust into the machinations of his own invention against his will, but he still had tricks up his sleeve. Or rather, on the control bracelet. He sent several probe droids streaming in from the ceiling, but Obi-Wan fended them off with well-timed kicks, swings, and a final throw at Eval.

"You'll have to do better than that," Obi-Wan taunted.

"You, my friend, have seen nothing yet." With another click of the control bracelet, Eval turned the little arena into a maze and jumped inside.

Obi-Wan took off in pursuit. The Phindian, despite his stumpy gait, proved to be surprisingly nimble as he ducked and wove his way through the maze. But he couldn't evade his foe for long. Obi-Wan leapt to the other side and pinned Eval to the floor.

"Let's even the playing field," Obi-Wan growled, and slammed down Eval's right arm to destroy the control bracelet. The maze turned into a sprawl of platforms going haywire. Eval kicked Obi-Wan to the other side of the arena. The Jedi in disguise retaliated with a toss of his helmet that knocked Eval back by a few steps. He pinned Eval to the floor again, this time sending the Phindian halfway over the edge. Obi-Wan pummeled him with several punches.

Despite all the heat blazing in the room, Dooku's voice cut in with coldness that sent a chill down Obi-Wan's spine. "Finish him, Hardeen."

Obi-Wan froze. Would Siri do it? She had with the Elomin she strangled to death. But unlike the bind she had been in, murder wasn't his only option. Obi-Wan had already won by getting through the Box. He had already proven himself worthy of the job. This was asking too much of him. He lowered his fist. Even towards a slimy coward of a bounty hunter like Moralo Eval, Obi-Wan couldn't bring himself to land a final blow on an unarmed being. Even this deep undercover, he was a man of principle. Nothing could ever change that.

"Very disappointing." Dooku's condemning remark sank like a heavy weight.

Obi-Wan grit his teeth and retrieved his helmet as he walked away from Eval. "With all due respect, I just want to do my job and get my money." Half-truth, half-lie. His frustration, however, was entirely genuine. He made no effort to hide it. Obi-Wan just wanted to see the job through, and he really had enough with this bounty hunter facade. He ached to return to the Temple he called home, don on the tunic and robes once more, and resume his duties as a Jedi.

"It's unfortunate that your leadership skills are so lacking." The Count addressed the rest of the bounty hunters now. "Nonetheless, congratulations on surviving the Box. Tomorrow you will kidnap Chancellor Palpatine at the festival on Naboo. With the leader of the Republic as our hostage, we will demand the release of all Separatist prisoners. If our demands aren't meant, the Chancellor will be executed."

Obi-Wan slipped his helmet back on to mask the satisfaction that may have crossed his face. Finally, he got what he came for: details on Eval's scheme. But his job wasn't over yet. The hardest part might just be next, and it hadn't ended with challenges from the Box.

"Once you're onboard the transport, Eval will walk you through his plan. However, the operation on Naboo will be run by Cad Bane."

At Dooku's declaration, the Duros bounty hunter stepped forward to face his future subordinates. Obi-Wan didn't need to glance over at Eval to sense the Phindian's fuming resentment and dismay. Obi-Wan didn't care about leading the mission. Surviving the Box, and gaining Bane's respect and trust, was enough for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Box was a very cool episode, one of my favorites. However, I decided to focus more on Siri's perspective in both the past and present.
> 
> Up next: Obi-Wan receives a less than ideal welcome back in the Jedi Order after completing his undercover mission.


End file.
